


Your Loving Flame

by ImagineBeatles



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 13:34:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 116,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15535380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineBeatles/pseuds/ImagineBeatles
Summary: John Lennon is a eighteen year old boy from Liverpool, who wants to make it big. He loves music and has his   own band. He goes to art collage and has a boyfriend, Stuart Sutcliffe.  John eventually breaks up with Stuart and starts dating Paul McCartney, the bassist in his band. This is not exactly going according to plan. They start fighting break up. This also means the end of the band. John and Paul both go their own ways, but after some time they find out they can’t really live without each other.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr in 2013 in 35 chapters, now merged into a more compact form

Paul closed the door behind him. George was already waiting for him.

‘Hey!’ Paul greeted him. George raised his hand and smiled at him. Paul walked over to him. George had  a big smile on his face. Paul raised an eyebrow.

‘What’s wrong with you? You look like an idiot with that smile on your face.’ Paul said. George heard an annoyed tone in his voice. He pointed at his shoes. Paul looked down. Shit, two different shoes, he thought.

‘Right. Just wait one second. I’ll be right back okay?’ Paul said before he quickly ran to the house. He swung the door open. He didn’t had to look long for his other shoe. It was right next to the other pair of which he had taken one. Paul quickly changed and ran back to George.

‘Anything else?’ He asked him a bit annoyed. George shook his head. Paul was absolutely not in a good mood at all.

‘No, you’re good. Let’s go then, before we’re late and get detention.’ He said as he began to walk to the bus stop. Paul nodded and ran after him.

            Paul didn’t say much more on the way to school. Much to George annoyance since he had no idea what to talk about anymore. Paul hadn’t said much for the whole week. He forgot things, like practice and homework and tests, which was totally not Paul at all. George watched his friend closely as he stared at the passing houses and people. He heard him sigh.

‘Paul, what’s wrong? You’ve been acting funny all week.’ George finally asked. Paul turned to look at him. He shrugged and looked away again. George sighed and threw his head back against the seat. This had been happening every day. Paul would forget something or do something stupid, George would ask what was wrong and Paul wouldn’t even give him a bloody answer. And if he asked why he always got one of  two answers. Or Paul would tell him he didn’t want to talk about it or he’d say he is too young to understand. George hated it when Paul called him young. He wasn’t young. He was only two years younger! George studied Paul again. He could see Paul’s lips moving, slowly forming words. George tried to hear what he said.

‘Need someone’s hand, to lead me through the night.’ Paul softly sang. George leaned closer to hear it all better.

‘I need someone’s arms, to hold and squeeze me tight.’ Paul continued as he stared out of the little window of the bus.

‘Now, when the night begins.’ George looked at where he thought Paul was looking. It didn’t take him long to see what, or rather who, he was looking at. John and Stu were cycling next to the bus on their bicycles to collage. Talking and laughing like always. George watched them as Paul continued to sing.

‘Whoa, I’m at an end. Because I need your love so bad.’ Stuart had taken John’s hand in his and kissed it sweetly. John laughed and hit him playfully. George had to smile. They looked extremely cute. He looked at Paul again. He looked sad as he watched the boys outside, cycling together to art collage.

‘I need some lips, to feel next to mine. Need someone to stand up…’ Paul sang. Then it hit George. Paul was jealous of Stuart. George had known about Paul’s little crush on John, but Paul told him it was over. George watched his friend.

‘To stand up and tell me when I’m lyin’.’ He sang softly. Well, that explains that, George thought.

‘And when the lights are low, and it’s time to go, that’s when I need your love so bad.’  Paul sang softly. The bus stopped. John and Stu didn’t, they cycled further. Paul watched them as they cycled away. George didn’t know what to do now.

‘Paul?’ He asked softly. Paul ignored him. He placed his hand under his chin to rest his head on. George placed his hand on Paul’s arm. Paul didn’t react. The bus began to move again. George noticed Paul was looking around for John and Stu. He couldn’t find them they had lost them. They drove pas the art collage John and Stu attended. George saw John and Paul sitting underneath a tree. John had his notebook on his lap and was obviously writing. Stu sat opposite of him and was drawing him. George hoped John would show it to him. He loved Stu’s drawings.

‘So why don’t you give it up, and bring it home to me. Or write it on a piece of paper, baby. So it can be read to me and stop drivin’ me mad.’ Paul sang so soft almost no-one could here apart from himself. But George could hear. only just, but he could.

‘Whoa, because I… I need your love so bad. Need a soft voice, just talk to me at night. Don’t want you to worry, baby. I know we can make everything alright. Listen to my plea, baby, come on bring it to me. ‘Cause I need you love so bad.’ Paul sang. George sighed and closed his eyes. He slowly removed his hand from Paul’s arm.

‘Baby, I need, I need, boy, I need your love so bad.’ Paul sang. The bus stopped. They had arrived at school. George handed Paul his back. Paul turned to look at him. He looked tired. He smiled at him. George smiled back.

‘Come on. Let’s go. If we’re quick, maybe we can get something to eat before class. I’m always hungry in class. If I don’t eat, I’ll be very grumpy. So if I don’t have enough time to get something to eat. I’ll blame you and you’ll be in a lot of trouble.’ George joked. Paul laughed weakly and stood up. George began to walk. Paul followed him, his mind completely somewhere else.

            John laid his pencil down on his notebook. He looked at Stuart. He was completely focused on his drawing, his sunglasses on his head. About every minute he’d glace up to take in a couple of special details. John sighed and took two cigarettes out of his pocket along with a lighter. He lighted one for himself and placed it between his lips. He took a long drag and let the smoke roll around in his lungs before slowly letting it escape from his lips again. Stuart looked up at him as he noticed the smoke. John offered him the other cigarette. Stuart turned it down.

‘No, thanks. Not when I’m working, remember.’ He said with a smile.

‘Oh right. Sorry. Somehow it always slips me mind.’ John replied. He smiled back. Stuart shook his head and looked back at his work. He added a few more lines before he handed it to John.

‘Here. What do you think?’ He asked. John took another drag. He took it from Stu and turned it to see what it was. It was him. John’s heard skipped a beat as he saw how flawless Stuart had down him. His jaw nearly dropped. He looked up at Stuart. Stuart himself looked a bit unsure.

‘You like it? I can change a few things. It has not really turned out the way I wanted it to.’ He said. John shook his head no and looked back at the painting.

‘No, it’s great! I love it. I bet people would give a lot of money for something like this. It’s much better than the things they sometimes show us in class.’  John said. Stuart laughed nervously.

‘You really think so? You’re not just saying that, are you?’ He asked. John put the drawing down next to him on his jacket. He wrapped his arms around Stu’s neck and gave him a little kiss on his lips.

‘Yes, you git. It’s fucking amazing! You shouldn’t think that low of yourself.’ John said. Stuart placed his hands on both of John’s sides and kissed him sweetly. John’s eyes fell close and he immediately kissed back.

‘Thanks, John.’ Stuart said as they broke apart. John took yet another drag from his cigarette and blew it into Stuart’s face. Stuart had to cough. John smiled and leaned back against the tree. Stuart laughed and threw his pencil in John’s face. John quickly duck away so the pencil wouldn’t hit him in the face.

‘Wanker…’ He said. John just smiled.

            John wandered around the hall of the school. He was bored. He didn’t  know what he can do so he just walked around a little. He peeked into the classrooms where all different kind of people work on different kind of things. Still they had one thing in common, they all try to please their teachers. Stupid, John thought it was. Art isn't about pleasing other people. It’s about pleasing yourself. John thought. John sighed and leaned against the wall. He slowly let himself slide down to the floor. He took his notebook and pen from his bag and placed it on his lap. Maybe some writing or doodling would help him get through his free time. He opened his notebook and put the tip of his pen down on the paper. He waited for his hand to start moving, like it always did, but this time it didn’t. It stayed still were it was. John removed the pen from the paper. The only thing that has changed was that there was now a small dot on the beginning of the blank page. John sighed and let his head rest against the wall. He closed his eyes and slowly breathed in and out. He let the air in his lungs and let it there for some time before slowly letting it escape from his lips. God, did he need a smoke right now. John reached into his pocket. The only thing he found was an empty package, not even a lighter. He wondered where it had gone.

            When John opened his eyes again he nearly died. Stuart was on knees and hands in front of him, his face only inches away. John nearly jumped a feet up in the air. Stuart laughed as he saw John’s shocked face.

‘You filthy wanker!’ John said. He pushed Stu playfully away.

‘Oh, sod it Lennon. At least you’re not bored anymore.’ Stuart said as he sat down next to John with his back against the wall.

‘Do you want to know, who I say in the loo just now?’ Stu asked.

‘Don’t you have class?’ John asked.

‘No, I saw you sitting here so I thought I’d just buck off and sit here with you. Anyway, I had to go, you know. Who doesn’t? And I walked in and you know who were there getting it on?’ Stuart continued. John shook his head.

‘No, but you’re gonna tell me. I’m sure.’ He said.

‘Justin with that tart from that writing class you have. They were having much more then only a snog, I tell ya!’ Stu told him with a grin. John’s draw dropped.

‘That randy git finally got it on with some bird? You’ve got to be kidding me!’ John exclaimed. Stuart laughed and nodded.

‘I tell ya, he was shagging the shit out of her. They didn’t even notice me!’ Stuart said.

‘Oh, you dirty little poof. Like getting off on watching someone else in the place you so badly want to be.’ John said, wiggling his eyebrows.

‘I must disappoint you John. But I would not want to shove my dick up that bird.’ He said with a laugh.

‘Who said I was talking about her…’ John said. Stuarts eyes grew big and pushed John playfully. John landed softly on the ground with a big smile on his face.

‘You do, you know. You do want to be in her spot right now.’ John said as he got up again. Stuart got out two cigarettes from his jacket pocket and lit them, one for each of them. He handed John his.

‘What, and get randy Justin’s spunk send down my throat and/or ass. No, thanks.’ He replied as he took a drag. John kissed just behind Stuarts ear.

‘And what if I was in Justin’s spot. If it was my cock buried inside that tight little asshole of yours. If it was me cumming in you pretty little mouth and ass. You’d love that, wouldn’t you?’ John whispered sexily into Stuarts ear. Stuart closed his eyes and let his head fall back.

‘Fuck, John. How do you even do this to me?’ Stuart asked. John smiled. He licked Stuarts neck and sucked lightly.

‘You’re just too easy, Stu. Too easy.’ He said. Stuart let out a soft moan as John bit down the salty, wet skin of his neck. 

* * *

 

Paul’s head come down on his desk with a loud thud. Everybody in class turned to him. They didn’t say anything. They just stared, annoyed by the noise.

‘Sorry…’ Paul said softly. His cheeks were a little red. He slowly lifted his head from his desk. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. He was so tired. The whole thing with John and Stuart had really worn him out. Why couldn’t he just let it go? Paul took his pen in his hand and doodled a little on the paper that was lying in front of him. He was so tired. He felt his eyes get heavy again. He looked around. The teacher was gone. Just closing his eyes for a couple of seconds wouldn’t hurt, would it? Paul let his head rest on his hand and closed his eyes. He felt himself slowly drift away.

            Paul was standing in front of a church. He looked around. It was Woolton. There was music coming from behind the church. Paul turned his head to take a look.

‘Ah, there you are. Let’s go eh?’ Paul suddenly heard coming from behind him. He turned around. Ivan was standing in front of him, his hands tucked away in the pockets of his leather jacket. Paul felt himself nod.

‘Yeah, let’s go.’ He replied. It felt like he had no control over his own body. His legs started walking next to Ivan towards to music, that had changed. Paul liked the music that was playing now. It sounded somewhat familiar. Paul straightened his white jacket and looked around for the girls. He still hadn’t showed much special interested in girls and he was starting to get a little worried if everything was alright. He felt someone grab his arm. It was Ivan.

‘This way. They’re over there. Birds come later, Paul. You have to see them play.’ He said. Paul nodded and followed him. On the stage was a band of six people. But there was only one guy who really caught his eyes.

‘So this are the Quarrymen?’ He heard himself ask. He saw Ivan nod with a big smile.

‘Yeah, awesome, isn’t it?’ He asked. Paul nodded.

‘Yeah, I suppose.’ He said. He could see and hear none of them were really knowing what they were doing. Apart from one guy. The singer and guitarist. He looked about two years older than he was. Quite good-looking. He wore a red checkered shirt. Paul could hear he had talent. But he could also heard that his guitar was out of tune.

‘His guitar is out of tune.’ Paul said. Ivan didn’t hear him. Paul turned his focus back on the lad. He was still doing quite a good job with a guitar that was out of tune. Then it hit him. The lad didn’t know the words to the song. He was making them up. Paul only realized it on a certain part, but then he  could hear it very well. Paul smiled to himself. The boy was clever. By the look of it, nobody else noticed he didn’t know the lyrics. The lyrics he made up weren’t that bad either. Paul saw the boy had talent.

‘Who’s that?’ Paul asked. Ivan looked from him to John and back again.

‘That’s John Lennon, that it.’ Ivan answered him.

‘John Lennon.’ Paul repeated.

            ‘Mr McCartney!’ Paul suddenly heard. His eyes shot open. His teacher was standing opposite of him. And he didn’t look at all happy.

‘Fuck…’ Paul said very softly so the teacher wouldn’t hear.

‘Mr McCartney, if you can’t stay awake in my class then you can go. I’ll call your father about this. But for now, I’ve had enough from you. I don’t expect to see you here anymore today.’ His teacher spoke. Paul swore again, a bit louder this time. He collected his things and left the classroom, with everybody looking as he did so. He shut the door gently behind him.

            ‘Eh! Paul! Over here mate!’ Paul heard as he walked through the streets not really heading to anywhere. He didn’t want to go home. His dad would be furious. It was probably best if he first heard the new and he wasn’t there. Paul turned his head to the place where the voice had come from. Just a little further away he saw John and Stu sitting against a tree smoking. John waved at him as Stuart lit a new one. John beckoned him to come over. Paul sighed. It was not like he had anything better to do. He slowly walked over to them. He let his bag fall on the ground with a loud thud. John smiled at him. Stuart had his notebook on his lap and a pen in his hand.

‘Doesn’t Mr McCartney have class at this time.’ John asked in a posh voice. Paul sighed and sat down.

‘No. Not anymore. I fell asleep and apparently I had done some more things wrong. The teacher threw me out. He’s going to call me dad about this.’ Paul answered. John laughed and got a cigarette out of his pocket. He lit it and handed it to Paul.

‘Here. You need it.’ He said. Paul took it from him.

‘Ta.’ He took a long drag and let the smoke slowly roll out from his lips.

‘What is your dad gonna do when he finds out?’ John asked. Paul shrugged.

‘I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll go back home anytime soon.’ He answered him.

‘It’s only delay, you know. He’ll find out anyway.’ Stuart said, not looking up from his notebook. John and Paul looked at him.

‘I know that! I just think he’ll be a little less angry when he had time to think about it instead of yelling at me right away.’ Paul said firmly. John raised an eyebrow at Paul’s bitchy way of speaking.

‘Do whatever you think is good. I’m just saying it won’t help much. You’d better just go over there and get it over with. He’d appreciate it when he hears it from you instead of your teacher.’ Stuart replied. He looked up from his notebook, right into Paul’s eyes. Paul kept quiet. He didn’t know what to say.

‘Anyway, me class will start soon. I’ll see you after, right?’ Stuart said more to John than them both. John nodded. Stuart packed his stuff. He stood up to walk away. John grabbed him by his arm.

‘Don’t I get a kiss anymore?’ John asked. Paul felt like he was being stabbed in the back repeatedly by a sharp dragger as Stuart leaned down and placed his lips against John’s in a longer than needed kiss. Paul looked away, jealous of the way John kissed him back and letting his hand rest on Stuarts shoulder. Jealous of Stuart.

‘See you in the second atelier after class.’ He heard Stuart say.

‘I can’t wait.’ John replied with a suggestive tone. This time the dragger stabbed his heart directly. Paul felt himself getting sick as he thought about what they might be going to do there after school. He knew John loved the excitement of the change they might get caught. He had told him that personally when they had been drunk and had been lying together in  the damp grass, bottles of beer scattered around them. Paul had made a stupid joke, it wasn’t really a joke but that was what he told John, about them having sex there. John had laughed and soon they were talking about sexual fantasies.

            ‘Paul? Hello, anybody in there?’ Paul felt John’s knuckles knocking on his head.

‘Ouch! Stop it, you sod. I’m here.’ Paul said ducking away from John’s pretty painful knocking. John laughed. Paul looked at him. Stuart was still there. Paul eagerly sucked on his cigarette. Neither John or Stuart noticed.

‘Okay, I’ll leave you guys now. See ya, Paul!’ Stuart said as he slowly walked away. John watched him walking away. Paul watched John watching Stuart. He bit his lip. John turned back to Paul and beckoned him to sit next to him. Paul moved over and leaned against the tree next to John. They were very close. Their shoulders were touching slightly. Paul just wanted to let his head rest on John’s shoulder, but didn’t.

Paul had John told about his feelings for him, but John had pushed him away and told him he didn’t fancy little boys. It had hurt him at first, but he had thought John meant he wasn’t queer. It had been quite the shock when John told him he was going out with Stu. Paul now knew what he had really meant. John didn’t want to go out with boy who were two years younger than him. John wanted someone who he could look up to. And that someone was Stuart. John idolized Stu. He was fascinated by him. Paul didn’t know why, though. To him Stuart was just Stuart. Annoying, serious and someone who couldn’t even play the bass but still got into the band. Paul knew the girls thought Stuart was mysterious and therefore very sexy. Paul thought he was a little too mysterious. Paul envied Stuart only because Stuart somehow got John’s attention and had stolen his heart. At least John had told him at first and asked if he was okay. Paul had nodded, before walking away. Paul always walked away when it came to Stuart.

‘I’m glad you don’t mind about me and Stu.’ John suddenly said. Paul couldn’t believe what John had just said. Wasn’t it completely obvious he was not?

‘I guess you already knew it was coming, didn’t you. You acted so cool about it.’ John continued. Paul felt tears coming up. He looked around. There was no one who could see them. Everybody had left for class or to work on something artistic. John never did that. School was still school. Even though it was all about what John loved, art.

‘I’m happy you got over it all.’ John said. He took a drag from his cigarette. Paul shook his head.

‘No…’ He said softly. John turned to look at him. Paul shook his head again.

‘What did you say?’ He asked. Paul looked back at him.

‘Oh, how wrong can you be?’ Paul asked him. John raised an eyebrow.

‘Oh, to fall in love was my very first mistake. How was I to know I was far too much in love  to see?’ Paul continued. John could see Paul’s eyes were a little red and wet.

‘Oh jealousy, Look at me now. Jealousy, you got me somehow.’ Paul turned his head to John. John swallowed tickly.

‘You gave me no warning, took me by surprise. Jealousy, you let me on. You couldn’t lose, you couldn’t fail. You had suspicion on my trial. How, how, how oh my jealousy.’ Paul grabbed John’s wrists. John could see Paul was at the point of crying. He had no idea what to do. Or what to say. He just looked into Paul’s hazel eyes, not able to look away. Paul’s fingers were strong around his wrists.

‘I wasn’t man enough to let you hurt my pride. Now I’m only left with my own jealousy.’ Paul sang loudly. The grip on John’s wrists reduced.

‘Oh, how strong can you be with matters of the heart? Life is much too short to while away with tears. If only you could see just what you do to me!’ John looked away. Paul let go of his wrists and let his head drop.

‘Oh jealousy, you tripped me up. Jealousy, you brought me down. You bring me sorrow. You cause me pain. Jealousy, when will you let go? Got a hold of my possessive mind. Turned me into a jealous kind.’ Paul continued to sing.

‘How, how, how oh my jealousy. I wasn’t man enough to let you hurt my pride. Now I’m only left with my own jealousy.’ Paul slowly got up and leaned against the tree. John looked at him in the corner of his eye.

‘But now it matters not if I should live or die. ‘Cause I’m only left with my own jealousy…’ Paul sang. He picked up his back from the ground. John looked up at him. He saw him slowly walking away. John  quickly got up and ran after him.

            ‘Paul! Wait. Where are you going?’ He asked. Paul didn’t stop or looked at him. He looked down to the ground and kept on walking.

‘Home. If Stuart means that much to you, I guess he could be right. I mean there must be something about him why you like him and not me.’ Paul said. His voice sounded sad. John started to walk next to him.

‘I’m sorry, Paul. I thought you were okay with it all. You never told me how much it bothers you.’ John said. Paul kept quiet. He had. Plenty of times. But he wasn’t going to tell John that.

‘Paul? Paul, please.’ John asked. Paul stopped and turned to him.

‘Please what, John?’ He asked angrily. Apparently John hadn’t expected that because he took one step back.

‘Don’t be mad. I am sorry. I’ll try to keep it a little less, okay. I didn’t know it was still bothering you. I mean, you even had a girlfriend for some time.’ John said.

‘Yeah, five days! I didn’t even like her. She was terrible.’ Paul said.

‘Then why did you date her?’ John asked confused.

‘To get over you, you dumb ass.’ Paul said. John looked down.

‘Listen. Let’s just be friends okay? I’ll try to be a little nicer to Stuart too.’ Paul said with a sigh. He was just tired of it all. John looked up at him.

‘Thanks. I’ll keep the couple-thingy down a bit, okay?’ John said with a smile. Paul’s heart nearly melted when he saw that boyish smile. He loved that smile.

‘Thanks. I’m going home. Maybe it is better to just get it over with.’ Paul said as he smiled back.

‘Fine, I’ll see you at George’s at seven, right. Band practice.’ John said. Paul nodded.

‘Great. See you there. Maybe I can ask Stuart not to come. He’s busy at school anyway. And let’s face it, he’s not the best bass player, right? We could miss him for once.’ John said. Paul smiled. His eyes sparkled.

‘Thanks John. I appreciate it.’ Paul said. The boys said their goodbyes and parted ways then. John to collage to his boyfriend and Paul to his angry father with a good change of not being allowed out that evening.

* * *

Paul stood in front of George’s house. He could hear laughter coming from behind the door. Paul had been glad when his had come home and his father wasn’t that angry as he had expected. Sure, he had yelled at him. But at least he could still go to practice. But he did have to get a job, to learn some more discipline. Paul sighed and rang the bell. George opened it.

‘Hello, Paul! Still grumpy?’ He asked cheery. Paul faked a smile and shook his head.

‘No, I’m fine. Glad I could still go to practice.’ He answered. George nodded and let Paul inside.

            Inside it already smelled like cheap beer and cigarettes. Paul absolutely could not believe that George’s mother was okay with this. But they were never thrown out and they never had any complaints about the smoke, the smell or the noise. That’s why they practiced here as much as possible.

            John was sitting on the cough, talking to Pete. Paul didn’t know why. John didn’t even like Pete. They looked up as they heard Paul and George come in.

‘So Paul, no problems with your dad? I thought you would get grounded after what I’ve heard.’ Pete said. Paul gave him a smile.

‘Yeah, well. I’m here anyway, if you don’t mind.’ He replied. Pete took a sip from his beer. John played with the strings of his guitar. He didn’t look up at Paul. Paul thought it was of what happened earlier. Paul looked around. He noticed Pete was actually the only one who was drinking beer. The rest of them just drank water, or juice or coke. George asked him if he wanted something to drink as well.

‘Yeah, thanks. Coke’s fine.’ He said. George went to get it for him. Paul put his guitar next to the cough and sat down. He noticed Pete was looking at him.

‘What?’ He asked. Pete shrugged.

‘I don’t know. Nothing.’ He said. Paul wondered if John had told him about earlier. He wouldn’t understand why. Pete wasn’t even really part of the group. Sure, he was the drummer, but always fell kind of outside of it all. George came back and handed him his coke. Paul took it from his and drank some. It stayed quiet for a few minutes.

‘So, what are we going to do?’ George asked, breaking the silence. John finally looked up. Paul watched him.

‘Me and Paul worked out a couple of songs, there in my notebook.’ John said. George smiled and got up.

‘Okay, where is it?’ He asked. John opened his mouth to say something but then closed it again. Paul feared the worst.

‘You’ve forgotten it, didn’t you?’ He asked. John looked up at him. He didn’t say anything. Paul stood up too.

‘Okay, where is it? I’ll go get it. I need some fresh air anyway.’ Paul said.

‘College. It’s in me locker. Stu is still there. He has the key. He needed something I had and he didn’t.’ John said. Paul raised an eyebrow.

‘What is it doing there?’ He asked. John swallowed. Paul knew he wasn’t going to like this answer and he knew John knew it too.

‘Me and Stu went over it one more time at school yesterday.’ He said. Paul sighed.

‘Fine. I don’t care.’ He did care, but he wasn’t going to tell them that. John knew he did. He just told him that this afternoon.

‘I’ll go get it. Stuart’s where he always is?’ He asked. John nodded and drank something. Paul noticed his throat was getting a bit dry too. He also drank a little.

George and Pete watched them both, not knowing what was going to happen next.

‘I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. Can I borrow your bike, George?’ He asked. George nodded. He got the keys from the mantelpiece and handed it to him.

‘See you guys later!’ Paul yelled as he quickly walked out of the house.

            Paul walked. The stupid bike George had lend him, it had a flat tire. Now he had to walk all the way over to that stupid college with that stupid git who let everybody call him Stu. Paul hated that stupid git. It was because of him that things were so strange and awkward between him and John. Paul took a sort cut and was still rather quick at the college. There was almost no one there anymore. Paul hadn’t even known it was still open at this time.

            Paul walked around. He couldn’t find Stuart. He had not been where he always was. Freaking git always wanted to make things hard for him. It was completely quiet around him. Paul doubted if he was even there. Paul came to the conclusion Stuart wasn’t on the first floor. He looked for the stairs. They weren’t hard to find so within four minutes Paul finally heard sounds. He heard a girl and a boy. Paul couldn’t hear what they were saying at all. The sounds were very strange. Paul tried every door that were there until he found it.

            ‘I don’t know about this, Jen.’ Stuart said. Jennifer was already sitting on the desk, waiting for him. She flipped her hair.

‘It’s not like he’ll ever find out. We’ve done it before, haven’t we?’ She said. She gave him a naughty wink. Stuart felt his trousers get a little tight. He hated it that she was so aware of what she was doing to him. He sighed and got a little closer to her.

Her perfume filled his nose.

‘Yeah, but…’ She cut him off by kissing him seductively on his lips. Stuart’s eye immediately fell close. He had wanted to stop it so long ago. What if John found out. He would never forgive him. He pushed her off him. She pouted her lips.

‘Come on. For the last time. I’ll be leaving soon. I want to feel your body against me for the last time.’ She said. Stuart swallowed. It was only the last time anyway. No one was here anymore, why would they get caught. There was only a change of less than one percent. Stuart looked at her. She looked back. She let her finger run over his chest. She licked her lips.

‘No one will ever know. Just relax.’ She practically whispered. She moved her fingers higher and placed them behind his neck. She pulled his head towards hers and kissed him softly on his lips. She moaned against them.

‘I’m going to be so lonely when I’m gone.’ She said between kisses as she kissed his face. Stuart wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply on his parted lips. She moaned. Stuart lifted her and threw her on the desk.

‘Fuck it. I need it and I need it now.’ He said. She stroked his face and hooked her legs around his waist. Stuart kissed her again as he cupped one of her breasts through her shirt. She moaned and pulled him closer against her, tangling her fingers in his hair.

            John, Pete and George waited were still waiting for Paul, who had been gone for nearly twenty-five minutes. John began to worry. And apparently so did George.

‘Where is he? He should’ve been her ten minutes ago, easily.’ George said.

‘I don’t know. What if something has happened?’ John asked. Pete shrugged.

‘I think he’s fine. He is probably ran into some nice girl and is chatting with her now. He’s always nice to girls and they are always around him. I’m sure that’s what’s going on.’ He said. John bit his lip. He knew Paul was upset with him. He surely wouldn’t go and pick up some bird now. No. That was so unlike Paul.

‘I don’t know. Paul has been acting a little strange lately.’ John heard George say.

‘That’s true. I think I might go look for him. Maybe something did happen.’ John said. Pete sighed.

‘Do whatever you want, but I think it’s just a waste of time.’ He said. John sighed and sat back on the cough.

‘Fine, then. He’ll be back soon I guess.’ John said. George nodded.

            Paul’s jaw dropped to the ground. He was certain he had found the right door. But what he saw was not something he had expected to see. They didn’t even notice him. Paul didn’t know what to do. Should he just walk away and act like nothing happened. Paul hated Stuart now more than ever. How could he do this? To John? John, who was crazy about him. Paul knew this would break John’s heart. Should he tell John? Should he just act like nothing happened? What would he do now? Should he just step away and knock? Paul wanted to turn around. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t walk away. The screams of pleasure form them both filled his head. It made him sick. Paul took a deep breath and stepped back. He silently closed the door. He took another deep breath and knocked. He heard them curse. He wanted to catch them. He didn’t want Stuart to hurt John. He opened the door. He caught them red handed.  

            ‘Fucking hell, McCartney! A bit of privacy, please!’ Stuart said firmly as Paul appeared in the door frame. Paul’s jaw dropped. He just caught them red handed and the first thing Stuart asked was to give them a little privacy.

‘What the fuck is this?’ Paul asked. It looked like Stuart only then realized what was going on.

‘Fuck… Oh fuck, oh god. Oh fuck. Paul.’ He said. Paul could see he was panicking.

‘What the fuck, Stu?’ He asked again. Stuart quickly pulled his clothes back up and helped the girl with finding her knickers. The blonde girl was blushing heavily as she put the knickers back on.

‘Paul, listen to me. It’s not what you think.’ Stuart said. Paul scoffed.

‘Not what I think? What else can it be than you cheating on John with her?!’ Paul asked. Stuart bit his lip.

‘Paul, please try to understand. I know it might be hard for you. You’re still so naïve and young…’ Paul got angry.

‘Excuse me, but I don’t think cheating is excepted in a relationship. That why they have a bloody word for it!’ Paul nearly screamed. Stuart sighed and let his head rest in his head.

‘Right, sorry. But please don’t tell John. He’ll kill me if he’d find out.’ Stuart nearly begged.

‘Well, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you fucked her!’ Paul shouted. Stuart stayed quiet. Then Paul spotted a grin on his face.

‘You’re still in love with him, aren’t you?’ He asked. Paul didn’t reply.

‘That’s why you’re so angry with me. Because you don’t anyone to hurt John. That’s what’s actually going on. That’s why you don’t like me, isn’t it. Because I have something you want so badly and I can do anything I want because he’s so enchanted by me that he doesn’t even realizes that I cheat on him.’ Stuart said. Paul again didn’t reply. He bit his lip and looked down.

‘I knew it. Fine, just tell him then. He won’t believe you anyway. I saw you two fighting this afternoon. That was about me, wasn’t it?’ Stuart asked.

‘You’re mean. John deserves better than you.’ Paul said softly.

‘He’ll never believe you. You know he won’t. Love really does make blind.’ Stuart spoke. Paul quickly walked over to him and hit him in the face.

‘Keys to John’s locker. We need the music.’ Paul said. Stuart grinned and handed Paul the keys. Paul took them from him and hit him again before walking out.

‘We’ll see who he believes.’ He said. He closed the door behind him.

            ‘You asshole!’ Jennifer shouted. She hit him hard on his already a little red cheek. Stuart stared at her.

‘What did I do? You’re the one who tricked me into doing this!’ He said.

‘I can’t believe you use somebody’s feelings for your own good. That’s low, Stu. Really low. Lower than cheating on your boyfriend.’ She said. Stuart stared at her. She hit him again.

‘Stop hitting me!’ He said. She hit him again.

‘Sorry. I just can’t stand that. He’s obviously in love with him. You don’t have to make him feel bad about that. I’m pretty sure he already is.’ She said. Stuart let himself fall on a chair.

‘You might be right. God, what’s happening to me?’ Stuart asked. Jennifer said down on his lap.

‘You’re turning into a bad boy. I’m not sure if it’s good for me to keep seeing you.’ She said with a grin on her face.

‘You are a bit of a slut, aren’t you?’ Stuart asked. Jennifer leaned closer so her lips were next to Stuart’s ear.

‘I am for you.’ She said. Stuart laughed. Jennifer sighed and stood up.

‘Sorry it had to end this way between us. This thing might also be a  bit my fault. Do you want to come and wave me goodbye tonight?’ She asked. Stuart nodded.

‘Yeah. I’d like that. What time do you leave?’  He asked.

‘About half past nine. I think I’ll better get going.’ She said. She grabbed her jacket. Stuart stood up as well.

‘I’ll come with you.’ He said. Jennifer smiled at him.

‘I hope things will work out with John. You’re crazy about him too, aren’t you?’ She said. Stuart smiled at her.

‘Things will work out. John might understand. He thinks you’re sexy too, so he might understand. But I’m not sure.’ He lied. He knew John would never forgive him if he did believe Paul. They walked out. Jennifer closed the door.

‘I’m sorry. I guess this is all my fault.’ She apologized. Stuart smiled.

‘That’s okay. It was my bloody fault for not saying no. I cheated on him. Not you.’ He said. Jennifer smiled at him.

‘If you need help, tell him to call me. I might persuade him.’ She said.

‘I will. Now, let’s go. You can’t miss your flight because of me.’ 


	2. Chapter 2

Paul walked back to George’s house. He hadn’t brought the bike with him. George could pick it up tomorrow. It wasn’t like he could use it tomorrow anyway.

Paul put a hand in his pocket, in the other he held John’s notebook. He felt John’s key of his locker in his pocket. He sighed and walked slower. What should he tell John? And the others? He had been gone of a long time. Much longer than he needed. Paul kicked a small rock away. He couldn’t understand why Stuart was cheating on John. He had to tell John, thought. It was going to break his heart, but he had to know. He had the right to know. He’d just ask the others to leave them alone for a couple of minutes and then he could tell him. It was up to John to decide what he had to do with that information and if anyone else had to know. Paul quickened his pace. The sooner he knew, the better. He thought.

‘Ah, look who’s finally back!’ Pete exclaimed as Paul walked into the living room. It was already filled with cigarette smoke. Pete was drumming a rhythm with his hands on his legs. John sat in a chair with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He looked worried. Paul smiled at him. He was getting nervous already.

‘What were you up to, eh?’ Pete asked. Paul turned to look at him.

‘Sorry?’ he asked. Pete grinned at him.

‘What have you been up to all this time. It couldn’t be that it took you so long to get that notebook, right?’ he asked. Paul swallowed thickly. This was his cue.

‘Nothing. I couldn’t fine Stu.’ He answered. John raised an eyebrow.

‘Sure, let’s just keep it to that, then. If that’s what you want us to believe.’ Pete said. Paul ignored him.

‘John, can I talk to you?’ He asked. John nodded. Paul sighed.

‘In private.’ He added. John nodded again and put out his cigarette before standing up. Paul let them to the hall as the other two watched them leave.

            John leaned against the wall and lighted another cigarette. Paul stared at it. It looked so good. God, he wanted one. He wanted it badly.

‘What?’ John asked as he put it between his lips. Paul stared at it and quickly took it from his lips and placed it between his own. He took a long drag.

‘Eh, that’s mine! Get your own.’ John as he took it back.

‘Please let me have it. I need it. Just one.’ Paul nearly begged. John sighed and handed him the cigarette. He lighted a new one for himself.  Paul slowly let the smoke escape from his lips.

‘So, what’s going on?’ John asked. Paul looked up at him. His heart was pounding in his chest. The cigarette hadn’t really helped.

‘Promise me you won’t be mad at me. I’m only doing what I think is best.’ Paul said. John raised an eyebrow.

‘What? What are you talking about?’ He asked. Paul shook his head and looked at him with pleading eyes.

‘Just promise me that. Please.’ Paul asked again.

‘Yes of course. What’s wrong? Did something happen to you?’ John asked. He was getting worried. Paul looked too nervous and scared to be Paul.

‘It’s just that… When I… I was…’ Paul searched for the right words. John came closed and placed a hand on his shoulder.

‘Paul. You can tell me. I won’t be mad. Except if you killed someone. Although I wouldn’t mind if you killed that old man who always sends his dog after us. I still have a bloody bite from that last time.’ John said with a chuckle. Paul looked down and played with his shirt.

‘I saw… I saw Stuart…’ Paul tried. He just couldn’t bring himself to say it.

‘Oh, is that it. You saw Stuart? You’ve seen Stuart more often, haven’t you. He’s not that scary, is he?’ John joked. Paul looked up at him with big puppy eyes.

‘John… Please believe me. Don’t be mad.’ Paul asked again. John could hear the pain and insecurity in his voice.

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made stupid jokes. Just tell me, Paul. You can tell me.’ John said. Paul took a deep breath.

‘I saw Stuart with another girl.’ He said with a shaking voice.

‘What? Paul, I don’t understand.’ John replied. Paul sighed.

‘I saw Stuart at college with a girl and they were… You know… getting along pretty damn well.’ He said. John looked straight down at the younger boy.

‘Paul? What are you saying? Just say it.’ John said, not sure about Paul’s words.

‘Stuart and some other girl were… making out. Well, more than making out.’ Paul said. He just couldn’t say it. He knew he had too. He hoped John understood.

‘What do you mean ‘more than making out’? What was she doing? What was he doing?’ john asked. His voice had changed. He sounded a little mad now. It scared Paul a little.

‘They were having sex.’ Paul said softly. He felt John’s grip on his shoulder get stronger. Paul looked down at the ground. He couldn’t meet John’s eyes.

‘John… I’m sorry. I just thought you had the right to know.’ Paul said. John shook his head. He let go of Paul’s shoulder.

‘No… No! NO! You’re wrong!’ John said loudly. Paul looked up at John.

‘John, please…’ Paul started. John looked away, shaking his head.

‘You’re lying! He would never do that! You’re wrong! It’s not true!’ John shouted at him. Paul bit his lip. John wasn’t believing him. He didn’t want to believe him.

‘John… I’m sorry. It is true. I’m so sorry. Please believe me.’ Paul said. He saw the panic on John’s face. The pain. The doubt.

‘Just… It’s not true. You’re lying! It’s not fucking true! Don’t lie to me, Paul! Why are you fucking lying to me like this?’ Paul could see tears in John’s eyes. Paul felt like his throat was shut off. He couldn’t speak anymore.

‘Why, Paul? Why? He would never do that. You know that. Why would you do this to me?’ John asked. Paul shook his head.

‘I would never lie to you, John.’ Paul said with a broken voice. John laughed.

‘Oh I see. It’s because you want me for yourself, right? Fucking queer!’ John shouted.

‘John, please listen to me. Don’t say that.’ Paul said. John shook his head.

‘I can’t fucking believe you. You’re selfish, Paul. Making stuff up like that. It’s bloody pathetic. What the hell did you think? That I would run into your open arms?’ John said with an mean laugh. Paul shook his head. He felt himself tear up.

‘Fuck John. Of course not! You don’t know what you’re saying. I’m not lying. Please believe me. Please believe me. Please.’ Paul begged. He fell to his knees, hands hanging slack beside him.

‘I’m not making it up. I’m not trying to hurt you. I couldn’t not tell you. I couldn’t lie to you. I’d never lie to you. I fucking love you. I would never hurt you. I want you to be happy. I can’t bear see you with him all happy while he fucks someone else behind your back. John, please believe me.’ Paul pleaded. John shook his head.

‘You make me sick, Paul. I thought you were better than this. I fucking hate you. I would never want to be with you. I can’t even trust you not to lie to me. I hate you!’ John shouted. Paul felt a tear run down his cheek. John didn’t hate him. He was just shocked. He didn’t hate him. He couldn’t hate him.

‘John, please. I beg of you. Believe me. I only want to do the right thing.’ Paul said.

‘Well, you’re not doing a good job, are you? Fucking queer. You bloody, pathetic, dirty, lying queer! You disgust me!’ John yelled at him. Paul bit his lip till it started to draw a little blood. He felt anger started to come up. John had to believe him.

‘You’re queer yourself too!’ Paul shouted back. John laughed.

‘Yes, but I don’t go making up fucking stories about people cheating on them, do I?

I can’t fucking believe you. I can’t even look at your face right now.’ John said. Paul felt his heart break.

‘Nobody can ever love someone like you. You’ll always be alone if you keep on acting like this. And now, I bloody hope that will happen!’ John shouted the last word. More tears started to run down Paul’s cheek. Paul wiped them and the blood away.

‘I hate you Paul. I want you out. I don’t want a lying little fairy in me group. Just get your bloody guitar and get the hell out of my life! I never want to see you again.’ John said firmly. Paul stood up. His entire face was wet en red from blood and tears. Paul could see John wanted to hit him.

‘Fine. I’ll go. But don’t expect me to be there for you when you figure out what a disgusting, lying asshole your boyfriend is. Don’t expect me to be there for you. You want me out of your life. Fine! See if I care. What do I need with a friend who treats me like a child and never takes me serious or believes me. Nothing, John!’ Paul said.

‘Just one little thing. If you start to doubt, he’s meeting her in about one hour at the station. Go and see for yourself, but don’t expect me to be there for you when your pathetic tiny heart is broken.’ Paul said. He saw the fire in John’s eyes. Suddenly he felt a fist coming down hard on his face.

‘FUCK YOU!’ John shouted. He ran out of the house and slammed the door close with a loud bang. Paul felt blood running down his nose and lip. John had punched him hard. The door to the living room opened and a George with a scared expression on his face walked into the hall. Paul smiled at him. A sad smile. George could see.

‘It’s fine George. I’m fine. He’ll figure it out. And when he does I won’t be there for him. Then he’ll know how much he needed me. That will punish him. The fucking idiot. I’m fine. I don’t want to have anything to do with him anymore.’ Paul said. George bit his lip. He knew Paul was lying. He wasn’t stupid.

‘By the way. Your bike is at the art college. Got a flat tire. Just so you know.’

Paul sighed, got his jacket and guitar and walked out too, not saying goodbye to the others. He just wanted to leave that place and start all over again. Get his life back together. A life without stupid crushes on people who will hurt you in the end. No more funny business. 

* * *

 

John ran to his house. He knew he had forgotten his guitar but at this point he couldn’t care less. How dare he? Lying to him like this. Saying he loves him and then hurting him so! Making stuff up just to break them up. So selfish. John couldn’t care less for his guitar.

            John felt tears run down his face as he ran. His feet slowly slowed down till he stood still. Why was he crying? He had no reason to cry, right? There was nothing going on! Stuart wasn’t cheating on him. John didn’t even care for Paul. Not anymore. Not after what he had done. He hated him. He should be glad. Everything was alright. Then, why did he feel so miserable? John ran a hand through his hair. His feet slowly started to move again. But not towards home. John kept on walking.

            John bit his lip. What if Paul was right? That he was in fact cheating on him? What if he was? John shook his head. He couldn’t. Stu would never do that. Never. Right? John wanted to hit himself for not trusting him. But Paul had been his friend for a long time. Why would he lie to John? He surely wouldn’t do that in order to get John for himself. Even Paul was not that selfish. Maybe he had just seen it wrongly? Maybe he was just helping a girl. He did that more often, right? John really didn’t know what Stuart did do and didn’t do. His head was spinning. What should he do?

            John walked pass the sweetshop as he heard the bell of the shop ringing. He impulsively moved behind the wall and hid there. His heart was beating fast in his chest. John didn’t really know why. He felt like as if he was somewhere he shouldn’t be. Which is rubbish of course. John took a deep breath in order to relax. He had to relax. There was nothing to be so tense about. It was probably all Paul’s fault.

            John’s curiosity started to take over. He wanted to know who had come out of the shop. Who had made his heart speed up like this. John took one last deep breath before carefully looking behind the brick wall to the door of the shop. There was a guy standing in front of it. He held a box of chocolate in his hand. The lad stood too far away from John to see him clearly. But he did recognize the posture from somewhere, he just couldn’t place it. John narrowed his eyes in the hope he could see better. He didn’t. John watched him. Suddenly the lad turned into his direction. John quickly hid away again. He could hear footsteps walking in his direction. For one sort moment John thought he had seen him. John waited for the lad to come and…

The lad walked passed him. John’s sighed. He hadn’t seen him. John took a deep breath in order to calm down before he softy walked to the street in which the lad had disappeared. John slyly looked behind the wall. His breath stoked. The street was well lit due and John could easily see who it was, even without glasses.

‘Stu…’ He said softly too himself. Stuart turned into his direction as if he had heard him. John immediately duck away. He wondered why he didn’t want Stuart to see him. It wasn’t like one of them was doing anything illegal. Right? Paul’s words came back to John in a split second. The train station. John carefully looked into the street again. Stuart had turned around again and had started walking. Into the direction of the train station. John bit his lip. This wasn’t what he thought. What Paul thought. This was just all a lie. It was nothing. He wasn’t cheating!

            John followed Stuart. He had to know. He had to be sure that Stuart wasn’t cheating on him. That Paul had been lying. He couldn’t let it rest if he didn’t know for sure. He had to know. There was no other way.

            They came closer and closer to the darn train station. John tried to tell himself that it was something else. Just to keep calm. Stuart was walking slowly, which made it easy for John to follow him without losing him. John licked his lips as he hid once again behind a brick wall. His throat was dry. He couldn’t wet his lips anymore. Just one more turn to the right and Stuart would have been at the train station. John hoped he would turn left. Or turn around to walk back even. As long as he didn’t turn right, everything was fine. He turned right. John swallowed but followed him.

            It was cold at the station. But somehow very busy. John wondered what was going on. He silently walked closer, careful not to be seen. He felt like as if he was doing something illegal. John hit behind a bathroom door from where he could see Stuart, who was now sitting on a bench, very clearly without having to come to close and risk getting caught. John kneeled down and leaned on his hands as he carefully looked behind the door to watch his boyfriend. It felt wrong, doing this. But he had to know. Stupid Paul, John thought. It was all his fault he was doing this now.

            Stuart rubbed with his hands over his legs. He was so nervous. But he also felt kind of relieved. After tonight it was all over. Then he didn’t have to lie to John anymore. She would be gone, off to Bath where her dad he gotten a job, out of his life forever. Just a fling he had in college. Everybody had a fling in college, right? This was nothing weird. Even she said that it would be over when she’d left. Just a simple fling. Stuart felt his heart beat in his chest. He looked at his watch. She would be here in less than five minutes. The train would leave in fifteen minutes. Just fifteen more minutes and he could relax and be with John. And only John. No more lying. Stuart smiled at the thought. Just him and John.

            Stuart heard something behind him. He looked around. A car was stopping. He recognized the car immediately. He waved at the people who came out of it. The girl ran over to him and hugged him tightly. Stuart hugged her back.

‘I’m so glad you’ve come.’ She said. Stuart smiled at her and let go of her. He took the box of chocolates from the bench and handed it to her.

‘Here. For on the train.’ He said. Jennifer took it from him and thanked him by placing a sweet kiss on his cheek. Stuart blushed slightly. She took a hold of his hand.

Together they waited for her family to come over to them.

            John felt like his heart broke when she threw herself in his arms. The way Stuart hugged her tightly and smiled at her. And then giving her the box of chocolates. John could see it was more than just plain friendship. You don’t give chocolates to just a girl or just a friend. John felt himself getting jealous. The girl seemed cute. She had blond hair and wore a tight blue shirt. She wore heels. She was still smaller then Stuart, which meant she was really short. John couldn’t see her face. He bit his lip as he saw her taking his hand in hers.

            They waited for the train to arrive. Jennifer played with her hair, being nervous. They talked silently as they sat next to each other on the bench. She had put the box of chocolates away in her bag. Her parents were busy saying goodbye to the person who had dropped them off with the car and Jennifer’s older brother was keeping an eye on his sister as he carried the many suitcases to the platform. Soon the train arrived. The two slowly stood up and walked over to Jennifer’s brother. The car left and the parents also walked over.

‘Well Jenny. I think it’s time to leave sweetheart. It’s time to say goodbye.’ Her father said. Jennifer nodded and turned to Stuart.

‘We’ll leave you two alone for some time while we bring the suitcases in. Take your time, but don’t be too long. The train leaves within less than five minutes.’ Her dad warned them. Jennifer nodded. They waited for her family to leave with the trunks. Jennifer’s mother had to drag her son with her in order to get him to leave them alone. Jennifer smiled at the sight. She waved at her brother with a playful smile and wink. Stuart smiled at him. The boy stuck out his tongue to them.

            Jennifer turned back to Stuart. She looked sad. Stuart took her hands in his own and lifter her chin to make her look up at him. Her eyes were a little wet.

‘Thank you… For, well… You know…’ She said. Stuart smiled at her.

‘I’ll miss you.’ Jennifer said softly. Stuart caressed her cheek. She truly was beautiful.

‘I’ll miss you too. I’m glad we’ve met.’ He answered her. Jennifer smiled. Stuart smiled back and leaned in, slowly placing his lips against hers. She kissed back and placed a hand on his shoulder holding him close. Stuart laid a hand on her hip and pulled her closer. Jennifer was the one to break the kiss. Stuart caressed the back of her neck. She tightly wrapped her arms around Stuart and hugged him tightly. Stuart hugged her back and gave her a kiss on her head. She pulled away and straightened her clothing. 

‘I hope everything will work out with your boyfriend, though.’ She said.

‘Thanks. It will. I know it will. He’ll understand.’ He replied. Jennifer laughed.

‘He sure sounds like a lovely guy. And he’s good-looking.’ She said. Stuart smiled.

‘Shame he’s queer. But well… That’s what I thought when I first met you too.’ She continued. Stuart laughed.

‘I have to say that you don’t give up easily. I’m glad you didn’t.’ He said.

‘I’m happy you think about it like that.’ She replied.

‘JENNY! WE’RE LEAVING!’ They suddenly heard someone shout from the train. They both turned to look. Jennifer’s father was yelling at them and beckoning for her to come. Jennifer laughed.

‘I’ll be right there!’ She yelled back. She turned back to Stuart and gave him one last kiss on his lips.

‘If you ever come to Bath, don’t go without giving me a call.’ She said. Stuart nodded.

‘I won’t.’ He promised her. Jennifer smiled and gave his hand one last squeeze before letting go.

‘Bye Jenny…’ Stuart said. Jennifer smiled at him and blew him a kiss as she ran over to the train. Stuart waved at her as he watched her get into the train. Jennifer appeared after a few seconds by the window. She waved at him. Stuart waved back. The train slowly started to drive away. Jennifer blew him one last kiss. Stuart continued to wave until the train had disappeared.

            John was stunned. He had no idea what to do. He was certain he had seen what he thought he had seen. She kissed him. She bloody kissed him. And three times too! And hugged him and had even blown him even more kisses. John felt a terrible pain in his chest. Stuart had cheated on him. And with a GIRL! A girl! A stupid dumb blonde with boobs that nearly came out of that stupid shirt of hers. Stupid whore. That’s what she is. And what even more terrible was, was that Paul had been right. Stu had been lying to him, saying he loved him while at the same time he was fucking a stupid bird. John suddenly tasted blood in his mouth. He realized he had been biting his lip. It had started to bleed. John swore. He didn’t hide anymore as Stuart turned around. There was no need anymore. He had no reason to hide anymore. It was over.

            ‘Fuck.’ John heard Stuart say as he noticed John. John stepped out of his hiding place completely. He felt something wet on his cheek. He wiped it away. Neither of them said something. Anger was boiling up within John.

‘John, please. It’s not what it looks like!’ John heard Stuart beg. Something snapped.

‘NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE?! NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE? WHAT ELSE CAN IT BE?!’ John shouted. He was taken aback by his own anger.

‘John, you don’t understand. It wasn’t…’ Stuart tried. He couldn’t find the words.

‘What stu? I think I understand it perfectly!’ John shouted back. He felt something wet running down his cheek again. He quickly wiped it away again. He wasn’t crying. Not now.

‘John, baby. Let me explain.’ Stuart begged. John shook his head.

‘No Stu. It’s over. Fuck you!’ John said, he took a deep breath, ‘I don’t want to have anything to do with you anymore. You’ve fucked up.’

‘John, I love you. And only you. Please let me explain. I love you, baby.’ Stuart said as he took John’s hand. John took it back and took a couple of steps back.

‘Don’t call me that.’ John said coldly, ‘I’m off. Forget it Stu.’ John turned around and walked away. Stuart grabbed him by his jacket.

‘John, don’t go. I need you. Please don’t leave me. I love you. You’re everything to me. Please don’t go, baby.’ Stuart pleaded. John turned around. Stuart took John’s hand in his. John shook his head.

‘Paul was right all along. I can’t believe I believed you and not Paul. Paul would never hurt me. You do. You always do. I just don’t understand why.’ John said in a soft sad voice, ‘I love you, you idiot!’

‘John I don’t want to hurt you. Believe me. It was nothing. It meant nothing.’ He said.

‘Well, you call me your baby when you’re holding my hand. But the way that you hurt me, I just don’t understand.’ John said. Stuart caressed John’s cheek with his thumb.

‘Well, you say that you need me like an ocean needs sand. But the way you deceive me, I just don’t understand.’ John continued.

‘John. I do need you. Please. Stay with me.’ Stuart kneeled in front of John.

‘Well, you know that I love you. More than anyone can. But a one-sided love, I just don’t understand.’

‘John, I do love you. You’re everything. You…’ Stuart was silenced by John’s finger on his lips.

‘Just forget it, Stuart. It’s over.’ He said. He turned around and walked away. Leaving Stuart alone at the train station. He just had to get home.

            John walked over the street to his house. Tears were running down his cheeks. He couldn’t believe that Stuart had done something like that. He loved him. And he thought that Stuart had felt the same. Well, obviously not, John thought.

‘Well, you know that I love you, more than anyone can. But a one-sided love, I just don’t understand.’ John said softly. He kicked a rock away.

            John silently closed the door. Mimi didn’t have to know that he was home already. She didn’t have to know about anything. He just needed to be alone. He silently walked up the stairs and into his bedroom. He put a chair against the door so no one could come in. He let himself fall onto his small bed and rolled up, hugging his legs. More tears come out of his red, sore eyes.

‘Well, you call me your baby, when you’re holding my hand. OH, how you can hurt me, I just don’t understand.’ John softly sang. He laid there, softly crying, hugging his pillow until he fell asleep. Still wearing his clothes. 

* * *

 

John just laid there, not doing anything. It had been days and his aunt Mimi had already given up on him. John didn’t want to see anyone, he didn’t want to talk to anyone. John didn’t hate people, as they thought right now, since he was always ignoring them or shouting at them every time they went into his room. He hated himself. He didn’t hate Stuart for cheating on him either. He hated to admit it, but he’d cheat on himself too if he could. Stupid he found himself he was. Stupid. Nothing more than a worthless piece of shit no one cared about. The fact that John still hadn’t had any contact with Paul whatsoever didn’t really help either.

            George was the only one of all the people he knew that would still dare to come into his room. He would face the danger of getting hit by a pillow or even a shoe every freaking day just to let John know that he still cared about him  and that he was there for him. That John couldn’t count on him. John didn’t believe any of it. He didn’t know what George got out of if, but it sure was important because getting that little irritating guy out of his room was even harder than remembering every god damn word of ‘Come go with me’ by the Del Vikings.

            The bell rang. John groaned and calculated in his head what the chance would be that it was George Harrison on the doorstep, wanting to come in and see how John was doing. It soon gave John a headache, though. So he stopped. Too much difficult, pointless thinking, which was a waste of time. He hadn’t even paid attention in class while they were busy with the bloody theory. It had been dull, so John had just sat back in his chair and relaxed as he had stared at the pretty people in his class. That meant, not only girls but lads too. John felt his heart ache as he thought of that.

            The bell rang again, giving John a head ache that was even worse.

‘Mimi! There’s someone at the door!’ he shouted as he rubbed his temples. The bell rang again and again. There was no answer from his aunt, either. John sighed and got up. He stumbled down the stairs, gripping at the railing for support.

‘Yeah, yeah I’m coming. I’m coming!’ John shouted at the door. The bell rang non-stop. This better be good, John thought as he opened the door.

            ‘I somehow knew it was you.’ John groaned. He stepped away from the door the let his visitor in.

‘Morning, John. Had a good sleep by the look of it?’ George said sarcastically as he walked into the house. John gave him a funny look.

‘Oh, aren’t you happy as always.’ He said. He threw the door close and stumbled into the kitchen. George followed him. He put his guitar, which he brought to cheek John up, against the table and sat on the counter as he watched John make tea for them.

‘Are you feeling any better, then?’ George asked his friend. John shrugged.

‘I guess.’ He said. George nodded and watched John’s hands. It made John nervous.

‘Will you _please_ stop being so annoying.’ John said as he put everything down. His hands were shaking. George looked at his face with pity.

‘Don’t you dare, pity me, Harrison.’ John warned him. George didn’t react. He just watched John, waiting calmly for John to calm down. John sighed and rested with his head on his hands.

‘Sorry, Geo. I just…’ John started. George laid a hand on his shoulder.

‘I know. Just sit down. I’ll make the tea.’ He said. John smiled at him. He turned and sat down at the kitchen table. He watched George.

‘What is it, then? You never were upset when you broke up with a girl.’ George asked him. John bit his lip.

‘I don’t know. It’s stupid, huh? I mean, I broke up with him. He should be crying like a baby. Begging me to take him back. On his bare knees, of course.’ John said in a sad voice. George turned and handed John a cup of hot tea. John thanked him. George sat down at the opposite of John. John took a sip from his tea. George saw John was not at all that well as he pretended to be. He could see the pain in his eyes.

            They drank their tea, not saying much. John knew he was going to break down soon. He hoped George would be gone by then. But George had no intention to leave. He stood up as they both had finished their tea.

‘Are you going home?’ John asked. George laughed.

‘No. Your aunt asked me to look after you. She’ll be home late, and she worries about you. So I’m going to keep you company. Hopefully you’ll cheer up a little too.’

‘I’m fine.’ John replied, trying to sound strong. He failed. His voice was cracking and sounded sad. George bit his lip and pulled John on his feet.

‘Come on. We’ll go upstairs. We’ll play a little. Get your mind of things.’ He said sweetly. John had to admit, for a young lad he was clever and sweet. Like a kid taking care of his younger brother who had been bullied by some kids at school. John didn’t like being the ‘younger brother’, but with George it was quiet alright.

‘Ah, fine. It’s not like I have anything better to do.’ He said. George smiled.

‘That’s the spirit.’ He joked as he grabbed his guitar and dragged John upstairs.

            John laid down on his bed on his belly, looking up at George who sat on a chair with his guitar on his lap. He played a couple of good rock ‘n’ roll songs. He played upbeat songs to most, trying to cheer John up. He had been down three days. It was time for him to move on. Of course he also knew that another reason for John’s depressed mood was that Paul hadn’t talked to him. Every time John had called his house, his dad told him he wasn’t home or, if Paul answered, he’d just hanged up. George knew John wouldn’t admit it, but he loved Paul. Maybe not as a lover or something, but definitely as a friend.

            John sighed and rolled on his back as George started another upbeat song, “Johnny B. Goode” by Chuck Berry. Even though, John love that song, he couldn’t stand hearing it now. George stopped playing. That wasn’t what John wanted either. He bit his lip. He felt so down and low. And now everything confused him. A tear ran down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away and turned his back to George but George had already seen it. He stood up and sat down on John’s bedside. He stroked John’s arm, telling him it was alright to cry. John wanted to cry. He had no idea why so suddenly, but he just did. More tears came out of his eyes and dropped on his bed. George swallowed. He had seen John cry in the last couple of days, but John had always tried to hide it. To stop it. He didn’t know. George bit his lip and placed his guitar on his lap. John didn’t notice. He just cried. His eyes too wet to see anything. Drops came down on his glasses. George smiled as he noticed. He gently took them off for John.

‘Thank you…’ John said in such a heart-breaking voice it almost got George crying too. George thought of a song that might cheer John up a little, which wasn’t upbeat.

            George placed his fingers carefully on the strings. He strummed the cords thoughtfully. John curled up and hugged his legs as his sobbing became louder.

‘When your day is long.’ George sang softly. He wasn’t used to singing. John and Paul always sang almost everything. He did the backup vocals and sometimes one or two songs, but Paul and John always helped him. He was always nervous.

‘And the night.’ He sang to his friend. John’s shaking slowed down as he listened to George singing to him.

‘The night is yours alone. When you’re sure you’ve had enough of this life, well hang on. Don’t let yourself go.’ George sang a little louder as he noticed John was relaxing a little. John wiped the tears on his face away with the back of his hand.

‘Everybody cries and everybody hurts sometimes.’ George swallowed thickly.

‘Sometimes everything is wrong. Now it’s time to sing along. When your day is night alone, hold on. If you feel like letting go, when you think you’ve had too much of this life, well hang on.’ George sang. He watched John carefully. He had stopped moving. He just laid there, calm, listening to George’s voice.

‘Everybody hurts. Take comfort in your friends. Everybody hurts. Don’t throw your hand. Oh, no, don’t throw your hand. If you feel like you’re alone, no, no, no, you are not alone.’ George said. John turned his head to him. George gave him a little smile. John smiled back. He was so glad he had George. He indeed wasn’t alone. He forgot that sometimes. He still had George. And Pete. But he didn’t care about Pete.

‘If you’re on your own in this life. The days and nights are long. When you think you’ve had too much of this life to hang on. Well, everybody hurts sometimes.

Everybody cries. And everybody hurts sometimes. And everybody hurts sometimes.

So, hold on, hold on. Hold on, hold on. Hold on, hold on.’ George sang sweetly. He strummed the last accord. He caressed John’s arm. He first wanted to go to his head, but he didn’t know if John would appreciate that.

‘Everybody hurts. You are not alone.’ He sang to him. John smiled.

‘Thanks, Georgie.’ He said. George smiled and put his guitar aside.

            John yawned. George’s head turned to him immediately, thinking something was wrong.

‘You tired?’ He asked. John nodded and rolled over on his side.

‘Didn’t get much sleep last night. Nor the night before.’ He said. George nodded. He stood up and laid the covers over John.

‘Just sleep, then. I’ll go downstairs and watch some telly. You could use some rest.’ He said. John’s expression turned form sleepy to scared. He gripped at George’s shirt.

‘Don’t leave me. Please don’t.’ He asked him. George smiled and took John’s hand off his shirt.

‘I won’t go, John. I’ll be just down the stairs, watching telly. I won’t go.’ He said soothingly. John shook his head and sat up, gripping George’s shoulders and holding him tight.

‘No! You don’t understand. Don’t leave me here all alone. Please, stay. Please. Don’t leave. I don’t want to be alone.’ John said. George could hear he was panicking.

‘John you’re not alone. I’m close. If you call me, I’ll be with you in two seconds.’ He tried again. John shook his head no and let his head rest against George’s chest.

‘No. Don’t leave me. Please stay. I beg of you. Please stay.’ John asked. George didn’t know what to do. He gently stroked John’s hair. He sighed.

‘Alright. I’ll stay till you’ve fallen asleep okay. I’ll be here. Just relax. Lie down and close your eyes.’ George said. John nodded and let go of his friend. George gently laid him down on the bed and tucked him in.  John watched George as he closed the curtains and sat on the side of John’s small bed.

‘Just sleep. I’ll be right here. I won’t leave.’ George reassured John. John nodded and let his eyes fall close. George watched John. He felt sorry for John. He had really liked Stuart. George tried to remember if he had ever seen John as happy as he had been with Stuart when he was with someone else. Only one person came to mind, though he had not even dated that person.

            George waited till he was certain John was fast asleep. He looked so peaceful and calm. Like he hadn’t a care in the world. George stood up and left, closing the door softly behind him. He tiptoed down the stairs, not wanting to make any noise. He walked over to the phone and dialled a number. He held the horn against his ear and waited for some reply from the other side.

‘Paul McCartney speaking.’ George heard on the other end of the line.

‘Paul, don’t hang up.’ George said. He could sense  Paul’s confusion. He didn’t say anything more. He just waited for Paul to figure it out. He was a clever enough lad.

‘Oh. You’re _there_.’ Paul said with a annoyed, down voice. George sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

‘Listen, Paul. I know you don’t want to have anything to do with him. But I… He’s… He’s fucking depressed, Paul. He bloody needs you.’ George said.

‘No he doesn’t. He fucked up. It’s his own bloody fault. He should’ve listened to me.’ Paul answered back through the phone.

‘I know. But Stu cheated on him! He lost him. And now you too! He doesn’t even leave his bloody bed if you don’t make him! He just cried! Yes Paul, cried! He wasn’t even hiding it!’ George said firmly to his friend. Paul needed a reality check. John was John. He said mean things. Paul was being stupid about it. It stayed quiet on the other side of the line.

‘Where’s he now?’ Paul asked softly. George couldn’t help grinning.

‘On his bed, asleep. Finally.’ George answered him a little mad. He needed to sound mad. Else the massage wouldn’t get through to him.

‘Oh. Not been able to sleep well, eh?’ He asked.

‘He misses ya.’ George said. Paul kept quiet. George sighed.

‘Listen, Paul. Instead of sitting in your little bedroom all alone. Why don’t you come over here and see it all for yerself eh?’ George proposed.

‘I’m not alone…’Paul said softly, ‘Fine. I’ll come over after dinner. But if he starts screaming at me, it’s your bloody fault and I don’t have to see him anymore.’ George ran a hand through his hair. He was a little worried of John’s reaction as he sees Paul, but he could take that change. There was nothing else he could do. John needed Paul and Paul needed John.

‘Fine. See ya then.’


	3. Chapter 3

Paul ran a hand through his hair. He had no idea why he had said yes. No idea. It was his own fucking fault. And this wasn’t the first fight they had had. Not even about Paul’s feelings. It hurt like hell. It was terrible. He hated John. He had not cared about his feelings at all. Selfish bastard, that’s what he is,  Paul thought to himself. And then calling me selfish! Paul banged his hand against his bedroom wall in frustration. If anyone should be crying his eyes out all alone, it should be him. Not Paul. It was his own bloody fault. Trusting someone like Stuart. Paul had told John about what he thought of Stuart. It wasn’t his fault that John hadn’t believed him.

            Paul hated himself as he put his shoes and coat on. He couldn’t believe he was actually going over. He hated George, too. And John, for making George believe he needed him. John didn’t need him. All John needed was a fucking reality check! He slammed the door shut behind him as he walked out of his house.

            George quickly got off the bed as he heard the front doorbell ring. John sat up too. He stared at George for his weird sudden move.

‘Who’s that?’ He asked. He was very suspicious. George had been acting weird all afternoon. Ever since he had woken up again, he was jumpy and had had a stupid annoying grin on his face. It freaked John out a little.

‘I don’t know! How should I know?!’ George asked a little too panicked. It gave John a slight idea of what was going on.

‘If it’s him… Tell him to go!’ John said as he let himself fall back in his pillow again.

‘If it’s who?’ George asked. John threw a pillow at him.

‘Who do ya think, you dumbass. That stupid whore named Stuart!’ John shouted. George felt relieved. The bell rang again.

‘I’ll send him away. Has he come over yet?’ He asked. John shook his head. George had no idea if John wanted him to stay away or not. He could understand if John just wanted to see that face for one last time and punch him real hard. He could not understand how John had not done that before. He quickly walked out and down the stairs to the front door.

            ‘You came.’ George said with a smile. Paul was standing with his hands in his pocket, looking down at the stones on which he was standing.

‘Yeah. Don’t be too full of yourself, though. I still don’t know why I’m here, anyway.’ He said as he pushed passed George into the house.

‘Alright…’ George said. He closed the door and waited for Paul to take off his coat.

‘Do you want a cup?’ George asked with a smile. Paul glanced at him quickly before looking at the stairs.

‘No thanks. I won’t be long.’ He said. George nodded and leaded Paul up to John’s bedroom.  

            John rolled around in his bed, feeling restless. He wished George would be back soon. He didn’t like being alone. What if George doesn’t come back, John wondered. John felt his heart ache at the thought. He didn’t want George to leave him. George had to stay here with him. John felt tears forming in his eyes. Everybody was leaving him. First his dad, then his mum, after that Paul and Stuart and now George. And even auntie Mimi had gotten sick of him too. John wanted to cry. Really cry. He wanted to cry his  eyes out of his head. Why did everybody of whom he cared leave him? It wasn’t fair. John hated his life. What was there to live for when everybody just leaves you and breaks your heart. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

            The door to John’s bedroom creaked open. John sat up and leaned with his hand on his bed. George’s head appeared in the doorframe.

‘Are you alright?’ George asked as he saw John’s red eyes. John nodded and looked down at the bed, not wanting to meet George’s eye.

‘I thought you wouldn’t come back.’ He said in a lonely, broken voice. George smiled at him and opened the door a little wider.

‘I’m here,’ George said, ‘And there’s someone else here, too.’ John frowned. He had no idea what George was talking about. Who would want to see him?! George slowly stepped into the room and let the door open. John stared at the open door. His jaw dropped as he saw who it was.

             ‘Hi.’ Paul said shyly as he carefully stepped into the room, expecting John to start shouting at him. John didn’t shout. In fact, he didn’t make a sound. He just stared at his former friend. George stood there, looking from John to Paul and back to John, hoping to God John wasn’t going to shout. He could sense Paul’s uneasiness. He was biting his lips hard and played with his fingers behind his back.

‘I err… I just thought I’d err… Check on you.’ Paul said with a shaking voice.

‘Oh…’ John replied as he looked down at his fingers, not knowing what else to say. Apparently he had said something wrong because Paul groaned and walked out of the room, slamming the door close behind him. John felt something strange in his heart. Not only the pain of being left alone again, but also something else. It was more painful and it made his heart feel like it was being stabbed at repeatedly as it was torn to pieces with a chainsaw at the same time. John looked up to see George had run after him. John let himself fall onto his bed and hugged his legs, trying to figure out what the pain was.

            ‘PAUL! GET YOUR ARSE BACK HERE!’ George shouted as he ran off the stairs. Paul was already putting on his coat. George pushed him hard against the wall and held him by his shoulders.

‘George, let me go!’ Paul yelled as he tried to struggle free for George’s grip. George bit his lip.

‘No, Paul. You promised to give him a chance.’ George said as he put more pressure on Paul’s shoulders. Paul stopped moving and stared at him.

‘A chance?’ Paul asked with a laugh.

‘You want me, to give him a chance? You saw what happened there, didn’t you? I gave him a chance. He didn’t even say anything! He didn’t even care I was there. He didn’t even care…’ Paul said the last sentence sadly. He looked away. George kept his grip on Paul but calmed down.

‘Paul. Listen to me. Just listen. You have to give him some time. He didn’t know you were coming, remember. It wasn’t all that bad. He couldn’t have freaked out and hit ya.’ George said with a chuckle. Paul didn’t think it was funny at all.

‘Do you have any idea how hard this is for me?!  I fucking love him, George. I can’t just… He’s always so mean to me. I can’t just keep on trying, can I? I tried to keep it all in and push the feelings away. But I can’t… And now every time he acts like that… It feels like he’s ripping me heart out to dance on while singing ‘Hallelujah’! It hurts George! It fucking hurts!’ Paul screamed loudly.

‘Listen to me, Paul. It was a shock for him to see you. He thought he’d lost ya. He missed ya. Thought, you were the last one he expected to see. You can’t blame him for not knowing what to say. He needs you. He loves you. He truly does. He just needs time to see it himself.’ George said. Paul shook his head.

‘Then why does it take him so long to see it?’ he asked. George smiled at him.

‘Because, even with glasses he’s as blind as a bat.’ He said with a chuckle. Paul couldn’t help but laugh along with him. George lifted Paul’s chin with his finger and made him look at him. Paul looked up and George let go of him.  

‘Paul, I know it hurts. But he does love you. I’ve never seen him happier with you than with anyone else. Not even Stuart. He’s crazy about you, Paul. He can’t go on without you.’ George told him. Paul’s eyes were wet. George smiled at him.

‘Okay? You have to hold on, Paul. Everything will be alright between you and him. Just thrust me. It will all work out.’ He said. Paul nodded and wrapped his arms around him, hugging him.

‘Thanks, George.’ He said. George rubbed Paul’s back.

‘That’s okay. Just be there for him. He needs you. And you need him.’ He whispered into his friends ear. Paul let go of George and smiled at him. He nodded.

            George was feeling proud. John and Paul had been getting together more regular again and George could have sworn he had seen a smile on John’s face when he saw Paul the last time. A genuine one. For the first time that week John had really smiled. Now he also got out of bed and sat down stairs mostly, watching telly in a pair of worn out, slightly ripped jeans and a shirt. John had also started playing again. They would sometimes meet to play a little at John’s place. Mimi didn’t like it, but since it helped John stop being so damned depressed she allowed it. Though, she would be somewhere else in the house or even gone. She still disapproved of the music. It wouldn’t get them anywhere, so why bother? It was a mystery to her. But it amused Paul and George. John only thought it was annoying.

            George also saw, that Paul was having it a little rough. He could see the looks of pain in his eyes whenever John had broken down again, which still happened. Or even when John was laughing and being cheerful. George had talked, or tried to talk, to Paul about it, but Paul told him he was fine every time. Nothing more could he get out of him. George hoped John would get back to his senses again soon. That was all he could do anyway. Hoping.

            Paul sat on next to John on the bed, his guitar in his lap. He was carefully plucking the strings as John sat back and watched him play. They had tried to write a song, but it didn’t really work out. Though, they still continued because it was nice to have something to do. Paul loved times like these. No stupid tension hanging around them, no one feeling depressed and no fucking arguments. Just them being alone in John’s little bedroom, playing random songs and joking around. Mostly joking around.

            John watched his once again friend play his guitar. He felt good today. Not depressed or down or lonely. Not at all. He was feeling rather happy. He was glad Paul was back. Back to being his friend again. John still hadn’t really apologized. And even though, he knew Paul knew he was sorry, he still wanted to say he was sorry. He was sorry. He had hated himself when he and Paul were not talking because of what happened. He had felt like a complete idiot.

            John noticed he had been staring as Paul turned his eyes towards him. John blushed and quickly looked away. He felt so strange lately. Every time Paul was around he felt warm inside, every smile made John’s heart pump a little faster and he even had to laugh at Paul’s stupidest jokes. It had been a week since they had started to hang out again and though John still wasn’t really over Stuart, Paul did make him laugh and enjoy himself a little more than when he’s just lying in bed doing nothing. John’s tummy felt weird as he felt Paul’s eyes on him. But it was a good kind of weird. It somehow made John feel really happy inside. He jumped a little as he looked to his side again. Paul had moved closer to him and was now only one foot away from him. John felt his heart speed up and got hot as he watched his friend strumming the cords while sitting so close to him. He couldn’t help but smile too as he saw a smile on Paul’s face. John wanted to smack himself. Why was he acting so strange? What was wrong with him?

            ‘I err… I’m gonna get some tea. You want some, too?’ John asked as he got up from the bed. Paul looked up at him and nodded. John felts his knees weaken as he saw Paul’s big hazel brown eyes with those long eyelashes. John had never really noticed how long they actually were. But it suited him. It made his face look even more beautiful… John shook his head as he walked away.

‘Stupid, Lennon…’ He whispered to himself as he walked out to get tea for them.

            ‘You’re in love.’ George said bluntly. John’s jaw dropped to the ground. George hugged his legs as he looked at John on the other end of the cough. John blinked a few times before replying.

‘Sorry?’ He asked. George smiled and nodded.

‘Yeah. You’re acting the same as you always do whenever you fancy someone, but now it’s only stronger so I guess it’s what you’d call being in love.’ He answered. John removed his gaze from George and stared at the black wall behind the telly.

‘I… I don’t…’ John tried to speak, but couldn’t. George watched with a grin.

‘You do. And you know it. That’s why you’re not yelling at me. Because you know I’m right.’ He said. John shook his head “no”. George sat on his knees on the cough and moved closer. He laid a hand on John’s shoulder.

‘He still loves you.’ He said in  a softer tone. John turned at him.

‘No he doesn’t. Not after what I had done, anyway.’ He said with guilty eyes. George looked deep into them. He could see the sparkles of love in his eyes. He loved Paul. Really loved him. George was certain. He just knew. He could see it.

‘You’ve always loved him, too. You just never realized it until now. You were too busy pushing the thoughts away and dating other people. But you do love him.’ George said. John looked down again.

‘I do, don’t I?’ He asked more to himself than George, ‘ What do I do now?’ George shrugged.

‘Tell him. That’s what I think is for the best. You have been circling around each other for long enough. Or just think about it, write and doodle about it till you can’t hold back anymore. I’m just saying that Paul still loves you and that I wouldn’t waste time.’ George answered as he stood up. John looked at him with pleading eyes.

‘But what if he says no? Or worse, if he says yes but I find out that I don’t in fact love him? What would happen then? It wouldn’t ruin our friendship, would it?’ John asked. George could see the confusion on his face.

‘To be honest. If that would be the case then it would be over, but I know he’ll says yes. But if you’re not sure and want to wait. Then you should do that.  Paul will wait. He’ll understand how you feel. I remember how he was when he had found out he was in love with the guitarist of ‘a cool group he had seen playing at the fete a couple of weeks ago’. He was a complete wreck and he was more trying to come up with the worst possible outcomes of him telling you about his feelings then gathering the courage to just go over and tell you. I’m just saying that you’re not the only one who had been struggling. He still is, actually. If he should let you go, if he should leave or just go for it. I suggested the last, but I don’t think he will. You need to make the first step so you can do it in your own time whenever you’re ready.’ George said as he walked out. John stood up and followed him. George put on his coat.

‘I asked Paul to sleep here for the night to watch over ya. I’ll be back in the morning.’

‘I’m not some kind of baby who needs a babysitter.’ John said with a grin.

‘I know. But maybe you’ll see it easier if you two are even more together.’ George replied. John bit his lip. Did he really love Paul? He didn’t know anymore. Everything was just so confusing. Maybe some writing would help him get his world a little less chaotic. John smiled at his friend, who smiled back.

‘Thanks, George. I’ll just give this all another thought. It’s all so sudden and weird.’ John said. George nodded and turned the door knob.

‘Alright. Good luck then. See ya in the morning!’ George said as he started to walk home. John watched him leave, waving at him.

            John let his fingers touch a few keys of the piano. It had been long since he had last played it. Everything had just been so confusing the last two weeks. John sat down on the stool at the piano. He let his fingers move over the keys, playing a little meaningless melody. He sighed to himself. Paul was upstairs, still asleep. He had stayed the night, or rather, fallen asleep on John’s bed without permission. John had found him too cute to wake him up. Ever since his little talk with George a couple of days ago, John had gotten more and more affectionate towards Paul. They were sitting closer than they normally did, John made more inappropriate jokes and he actually caught himself flirting at one point. Everything was messed up. Paul was his best friend. His mate. He couldn’t feel that way about him. He had always thought of Paul as a friend and nothing more. But now… John simply didn’t know anymore. He actually thought George might have been right. He did feel strange when Paul was around, in a good way, but also when he wasn’t, but then in a bad way. Every time when his and Paul’s eyes locked he felt his heart sped up and every time Paul walked into the room or knocked on his door his heart skipped a beat. He had even had a dream about him. It was nothing weird or sexual. They were just hanging out at Strawberry Fields. Though, the atmosphere around them in his dream was completely different. It was relaxed and sweet and they were playful but in a loving way. John remembered Paul’s gazes. So much the same but so different from now. More happy. John felt his heart flutter as he thought about Paul’s beautiful delicate  smile and those happy, big eyes.

            He sighed and grabbed his notebook. He had started writing a song about five days ago. John never worked on a song for that long. It was always finished within half a day. But this one was special. He had decided just to let his mind go free and write down and play whatever he felt. It was different than what he had expected, but good. He wondered if Paul would like it.

            John had started writing it the night Paul had stayed over because George had to leave, after the little talk, when he hadn’t been able to sleep. Paul had been there with him in the bed and John just felt the urge to kiss his lovely eyes and hug him closely against him. John knew he was acting stupid and he loved Paul. Deep inside him he knew that, and it came out at night and whenever he was playing, but he just couldn’t acknowledge it. He had known Paul for so long. Why have this feeling come up now. He thought about what George had said. He told him that he had always loved him but was too busy with other things. Maybe he had been right. He had felt something in his heart when he had seen Paul watching him play in that big crowd. And then when he tuned his guitar. John was still proud of Paul for that. He knew he would never forget that day. It was like your first kiss. You would never forget it.

 

_Every night  I can’t sleep, thinking of you._

_And every little thing that you do._

_Yes, I’m telling all my friends: ‘I’m in love.’_

_You are my kind of girl._

_You make me feel proud._

_You make me wanna shout aloud._

_Yes, I’m telling all my friends: ‘I’m in love.’_

_Oh yeh, I’m sitting on the top of the world._

_I’m in love with a wonderful girl._

_And I’ve never felt this way before._

_If this is love, give me more…_

_And dada dada dada dadum._

_I’m telling you._

_Da dada dada thing that you do._

_I’m telling all my friends : ‘I’m in love.’ In love._

_Yes, I’m telling all my friends: ‘I’m in love. In love._

_According to my friends, I’m in love._

            Paul leaned against the doorframe as he watched John play and struggle with the words. It was the first time he heard it, and it was obviously not finished yet. He watched as John as John scribbled words in his notebook and played parts of the song again, obviously not aware that Paul was standing there. Seeing and hearing John play like that again made Paul warm up inside of him. It had been long since he had heard John play and be busy with music like that again. He had missed that part of him. Paul wondered if that song was about him. He thought so. Who else would he be writing a song about? Paul smiled to himself. He knew he shouldn’t get his hopes up and just think it’s about someone else and not him until John says so. But he couldn’t. He just had a feeling John loved him. He had noticed John’s change in attitude towards him. He was getting sweeter and happier and touchier. Not that Paul minded. Far from it! Paul loved it. John’s mind was going to catch up with his heart. Finally! Paul bit his lip as John played the song again. It was a good song. A really good song. John sang it as if it came right from the heart.

            Paul’s heart sank down his chest as he thought about the future. Would John tell him? Or would he just be confused for a couple of weeks and then pretend like there was nothing at all? Neither of those actions sounded very good to him, but they did sound very John-like. Paul knew that if he wanted this, he had to take the ‘first step’. Paul wasn’t sure if you could still call it a first step, since John had been flirting slightly and had wrote him a song, but still… He had to make it happen. John wouldn’t. Paul was actually glad too. John wouldn’t risk their friendship, which was cute and sweet. But it was also bad, because now he had to come up with something. The song finished and Paul quickly duck away as John turned his head in his direction. He hoped John hadn’t seen him. It would be awkward. Especially now, since he had duck away. Paul wanted to slap himself, but no sound came. On the sound of John scribbling things on paper with a pen, Paul sighed from relieve. John could not know that Paul knew about the song. He had to come to him with that. Not the other way around. Paul peeked around the corner into the room. John was sitting bend over his notebook with his tea in his hand. Paul quickly walked away into the kitchen. He’d show John what kind of a guy he could be. 

* * *

 

George opened the door with a big smile on his face as he fixed his tie with one hand.

‘Looking good, Georgie. Got a date?’ Paul said more as a joke than being serious.

George grinned and stepped aside to let his friend in. Paul walked in and took off his shoes and coat.

‘As a matter of fact, I do.’ George said, trying to sound as casual as was mentally possible for him. Paul turned around with a big smile on his face.

‘Who?’ he asked. George turned around casually and stared to walk to the living room where John was sitting, strumming his guitar.

‘Oh, just some guy I met a couple of nights ago in a bar.’ He said. Paul stared at his friend before quickly running after him, throwing his coat, which he was still holding, in a corner.

‘Wait what? When was that? I don’t remember that!’ Paul couldn’t believe this. Why hadn’t he noticed it. George laughed as he sat down next to John on the cough.

‘Well, maybe you don’t remember because you weren’t there, you knob-head.’ George said. Paul was a bit taken aback.

‘What do you mean I wasn’t there? I’m always there!’ He said as just continued to stand there. John raised his eyes up at his friend.

‘Like I said. You weren’t there! You were here. With John. I was bored so I decided to go on my own out for once. And there he was… Drinking his beer while trying to chat up with some bird.’ George said the last in a dreamy voice.

‘When was that?!’ Paul asked, not understanding how George could just go out without him. They always went together.

‘I don’t know. Last Wednesday? What does it matter?’ George asked. Paul felt his throat dry out as he thought about last Wednesday. It had been the day that he had heard John play that song. John still hadn’t talked to him about it and it didn’t look like he was going to. It really was all up to Paul and Paul still hadn’t figured out what to do to make John become his.

‘Oh…’ Paul said. George raised an eyebrow at Paul’s sudden change of mood. John looked from Paul to George and back at Paul.

‘Anyway, now he’s here, why don’t you tell something about this ‘lad I met in a bar a couple of nights ago’?’ John asked. George turned his head to him. Paul smiled and sat down as well.

‘Well, if you insist.’ He said with a stupid grin on his face, ‘His name is Ringo, or actually his name is Richard, but he doesn’t like it. He is nineteen years old and has quit school. He works in a record shop. He’s very funny and sweet. He’s a little small but has the bluest eyes you will ever see and has a fantastic teddy boy haircut. He’s very handsome and has the most amazing smile.’ George told all he knew about him very quickly, being too nervous and excited to notice how fast he was speaking. John and Paul smiled at each other. Neither of them could wait to see this handsome, bright eyed, young man. George told about how they had met each other and how much had enjoyed talking to him. And even when he accidently told him he was into guys he hadn’t ran away but had told him he was too, but that he still liked girls. George told him how they had walked around the docks to get some fresh air and how Ringo had taken his hand in his and had asked him out on a date. George told everything so vividly and in so much detail that John and Paul had the feeling they had been there.

           George’s long talk was cut off by the sound of the doorbell ringing. He and Paul fell silent immediately but John quickly got up and rubbed his hands.

‘Let’s see how the lad really looks like, eh?’ He said as he walked away. It took George a couple of seconds before he realised John was going to open the door and Ringo would be standing on the other side. He quickly got up from the cough and ran after John who had just placed his hand around the doorknob.

‘John, don’t…’ George tried to stop him, but it was too late. He closed his eyes and rested against the wall, thinking his life would be completely over if he saw Ringo. George knew one thing, and that was that John would not find Ringo attractive at all!

‘Why, hello!’ George heard John greet his date, ‘So you are the mysterious Ringo.’ George laid a hand over his eyes and opened them so he could peek through his fingers. He nearly scared to death as he saw Paul staring at him. Paul laughed as he saw George jump almost two feet up at the air. George pushed him away, but grinned too, finding it a little funny himself as well.

‘Yeah, that’s right. Uhm… George told me to come here.’ George heard Ringo say. He could hear in his voice and choice of words that Ringo wasn’t sure if John knew what he and George were going to do.

‘He’s in. I’ll get him for you. I’m sure you could need a blow job, since that girl didn’t work out.’ John said.

‘JOHN!’ George exclaimed. He quickly ran over to them and pushed his friend aside.

‘I think I can handle this, thank you very much.’ George said. John laughed and ruffled his head. George blushed from embarrassment. This was not how he expected it to be when he asked Ringo to pick him up here. Then of course, how could he have expected John to act any differently than he was doing now.

‘Don’t get your knickers in a bunch, Georgie,’ He said, and added softly but hard enough for them both to hear, ‘You might need them later on.’ George turned a bright red and quickly pushed John away from the door. He could hear Paul laugh behind him.

‘Get lost, John.’ He said. He stepped a little more outside and closed the door a little so John and Paul, who were obviously watching, couldn’t really see them.

           ‘Sorry for that.’ George apologized as he scratched the back of his head. Ringo smiled widely at him and it made George’s heart speed up right away.

‘That’s okay. I’m used to strange people, but he’s a complete goof, isn’t he?’ He asked. George nodded and chuckled nervously. He could here John and Paul whisper things to each other and laugh about it after. As much as he loved them both and how glad he was that John had stopped being so damn depressed, why did he have to show he good he was doing now? He should spend less time making him

embarrassed and more time getting Paul into his bed.

‘He looks fun, though.’ Ringo spoke. George nodded.

‘He is.’ He said. He let his hand run through his hair and tried to relax a little. He looked at the lovely man in front of him. He looked good. Good pair of black drainpipe jeans, nice blue button-up shirt, which made his eyes come out beautifully and a grey blazer which suited him well. His hair looked amazing in his little Teddy Boy style, which made George nearly jealous, which was ridiculous. He knew how many people loved his hair. Especially Paul, who had been more than open about it.

‘Ready to go, then?’ Ringo asked, not really noticing George wasn’t saying much.

‘Yeah. I just need to grab my jacket.’ George said as he stepped back inside.

‘Mind if I come in?’ Ringo asked. George bit his lip and looked behind him. John and Paul were nodding yes with more than just simple excitement. He looked back at Ringo. His blue eyes were staring at him and George knew that he wouldn’t be able to say no to those big, lovely eyes. He nodded and let Ringo in. John and Paul were practically jumping around like little children when they would meet Santa. George had to laugh at the sight. He heard Ringo chuckled behind him. It made him relaxed. It was good to know that he liked their weirdness so far.

           George and Ringo sat close together in one of the small booth at the back of some club Ringo had dragged him into. They were both drinking  beer and were talking as the watched other people dance around. George was glad they hadn’t stayed with John and Paul too long. He thought it was best to let Ringo get used to them slowly, though he did saw that Ringo was quite the weird one himself. George loved his quirkiness. It suited him well and made him _Ringo_. And though he did not really know what that meant just yet, he did know that he liked it. He loved how he scanned the room with his bright blue eyes, how he talked and the jokes he made. He liked the little inappropriate comments and the his little dances. Especially the little weird dances. It made him look adorable and it was extremely funny to watch. George noticed a few people looking at them weird as he once again laughed loudly as Ringo did an impression of the slow dancing the couples were doing on the dance floor in a silly way. George blushed slightly and quickly took a sip and waited for the alcohol to kick in so he would care less about what other people thought about them. George looked deep into Ringo’s eyes and smiled widely letting him know he was enjoying himself. Maybe even more than he had thought at first.

            ‘I still can’t believe you wanted to go on a date with me.’ Ringo said to him.

‘Oh. And why is that?’ George asked as he took a sip from his cold drink. Ringo shrugged and smiled at him cutely.

‘Because I am four years older than you!’ Ringo exclaimed. George laughed.

‘I like old guys.’ He said as he stared at his date’s lips. They looked so good and kissable. George couldn’t wait to finally know how they tasted like.

‘Jeez… Thanks!’ Ringo replied sarcastically.

‘Any time.’ George said with a little flirty wink. Ringo smiled and laid his hand on George’s knee under the table so no one could see. George felt a shock go through his body as he was touched and he blushed slightly as Ringo locked their eyes together.

‘And because you’re way too handsome, funny, sweet and clever for me.’ Ringo added to the list in a flirty manner. He squeezed George’s knee. George bit his tongue to keep himself from flipping out. He was touching me! He’s touching and squeezing my knee! Was all that went through his mind at that moment. He couldn’t even register what Ringo was saying.

‘Sorry, what?’  George asked. Ringo leaned closer to him. George could feel his warm breath on his face.

‘Do you want to dance?’ He said as he pointed at the dance floor.

‘But… We can’t… They’ll see.’ George said. Ringo shook his head.

‘Of course not. Girls dance with each other all the time. Why would they think this is any different?’ He asked. George admired his courage and the fact that he was so carefree. George wished he was a little more free like Ringo. How much easier life would be if he could just be who he was and was a little more daring.

‘So, are you coming?’ Ringo asked again, already taking his hand in his, ready to drag him along with him to the dance floor. George bit his lip, but slowly nodded ‘yes’.

           George felt something warm inside his chest as he danced with Ringo. They didn’t dance as much with each other, they more or less danced on their own, close to the other, but it was enough for the both of them. Ringo seemed to be comfortable with the dancing, but George couldn’t help but looking around to see if anyone was watching them with more than just a slight curiosity. Ringo didn’t seem to mind and just smiled every time he noticed George had been looking around again. George liked that. It made him a little calmer. Ringo didn’t care if George was a little uncertain and shy, probably because he was four years older than him, but tried to make him feel as comfortable as possible. After just one more of Ringo’s funny dances and tries to get George to dance like that as well, a slow dance song started and George and Ringo got off the floor reluctantly. Though neither of them wanted to admit it, they would like to dance like the others couples with the other. But now it was George who came up with an idea to have some ‘couple time’ and took the lead.

           ‘Ringo?’ He asked shyly as Ringo sat down in their little booth again.

‘Yeah?’ Ringo asked when George didn’t sit down or continued.

‘Do you… Err… Want to go outside?’ He asked. Ringo raised an eyebrow.

‘Why?’ He asked cautiously. George bit his lip. He looked into Ringo’s eyes and it gave him that little encouragement to go on.

‘Let’s go to the docks. I want to see the stars.’ He said. Ringo chuckled but got their coats and stood up. George took his jacket from him and together they walked out.

           It was quite cold. George wondered what time it was. It didn’t feel like they had been inside for long. George peeked at Ringo and noticed he hadn’t either. He wore a long, black coat with a grey scarf and gloves. George himself hadn’t brought his gloves and had just put his hands in his pockets. Ringo looked comfortable in his thick coat and warm clothing. All George wanted to do was to hold onto him and lay his head on his shoulder. He wanted to be warmed up by his warm embrace, but he knew that wouldn’t be possible. Even though it was cold and late, there were still people on the street. More than George thought there would be. They couldn’t risk it. Even if they somehow managed to be alone they would be interrupted for sure.

           The two lads walked slowly across the docks. Neither said anything. It wasn’t needed. George shivered as he felt a cold breeze blow over the back of his neck. Ringo looked up at him. He took off his scarf and handed it to George.

‘Here.’ He said. George blinked a few times before shaking his head.

‘No. I can’t. It’s cold and it’s yours. I can’t take it.’ He said.

‘Oh, just take it. I’m still dressed warmer without it. Besides. I don’t want your lips to freeze off.’ Ringo said the last softer and with a little wink. George blushed, but it didn’t really show since he was already red from the cold. He smiled and wanted to take the scarf from Ringo, but when he got closer to take it, Ringo grinned and wrapped it around George’s neck himself. George’s heart skipped a beat as he felt Ringo’s warm hands on his skin and his breath on his face.

‘So, and don’t give it back until this thing is over.’ Ringo said with a warm smile. George smiled back and nodded.

‘Now, let’s go stand over there.’ Ringo continued  as he pointed at the railings where they could look over the water. He took George’s arm in his hand and dragged him over there. George followed with a grin on his face.

           Something strange was happening to George. He knew it. He had never felt like this. He wondered if this was the feeling Paul had been talking about every time they had talked about John. Was this the feeling Paul felt for John? George slyly looked at Ringo, who was looking up at the sky, as his hands held the railings loosely. His face was lighted by the moon. It gave it the most amazing glow. His skin looked so fragile and almost silky-like. George felt the strong urge to let his fingers run over that beautiful face. Let them explore the face of that man. His nose, his eyes, his cheeks, his lips… George’s heart sped up like crazy as his eyes came to rest at his lips. He licked his own as his mind came up with wonderful and oh so sinful things those lovely lips could do. Suddenly Ringo’s face turned to him. George blushed and quickly looked away, to the sea. He watched the waves slam against the wood. He watched the foam move and take on different shapes. He looked a bit higher and looked at the refection of the moon in the water. Ringo had seen him looking? Would he expect something? He _was_ four years older. Doing nothing would be strange, right? What if he expects me to kiss him or take his hand or something and I won’t? Would that ruin everything? Would he think of me as weird and a coward? Suddenly George’s questions were answered. George’s heart stopped as he felt a pair of finger turn his head into Ringo’s direction by his chin. He kept his eyes down, but then slowly looked up as the same fingers caressed his cheeks. Ringo’s face was closer. He stared straight into his blue eyes and their noses nearly touched. The feeling of his fingers and warm breath on his face was almost too much for him. He was paralyzed. He couldn’t move. His eyes unconsciously lowered to Ringo’s lips again. He quickly looked back up as he realised he had been looking. Ringo didn’t seem to mind. He smiled and let his own fingers move to George’s soft lips. He let a finger run across it, making George’s lips tinkle. Ringo placed his other hand at the back of George’s head and started to play with his hair. George’s eyes fell shut and he gripped the railing to keep himself standing. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe he had to grip the railing to stay standing. They hadn’t even done anything! But Ringo’s fingers were giving him the most wonderful feeling. Then the fingers moved to his jaw and held him as he felt Ringo’s breath become hotter and stronger. Just before he opened his eyes his whole body tensed up as he felt a pair of lips touch his own. It was just briefly, but it was enough for George’s mind to go crazy. He clung himself with his hand onto Ringo’s coat. Then Ringo’s lips were gone and George immediately wanted them back against his own. He opened his eyes. Ringo was staring at him. George stared back and gathered up the courage to kiss him himself. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes before forcing his lips against Ringo’s. Ringo kissed back immediately and they moved their lips together in union. George’s body was trembling and he gripped Ringo’s shoulder to keep himself up. Ringo’s arms moved behind George’s back and held him tightly against himself, like he never wanted to let go. George’s eyes shot open as he felt something wet and rubber-like move against his lips. His eyes fluttered close as he noticed it was Ringo’s tongue. His heart was going crazy in his chest as he slowly parted his lips. He felt Ringo’s tongue slide in across his lip. It was so strange but somehow really good. He twitched as he felt Ringo’s tongue touch his own. He slowly began to move it together with Ringo’s and Ringo guided him. He slowly moved his tongue also into Ringo’s mouth and began to explore. It felt amazing. Ringo’s tongue massaged his and he could feel his trousers getting tight. He blushed heavily and broke the kiss. Ringo opened his eyes slowly. George could see he was confused by the suddenly loss of contact.

‘Something wrong?’ He asked. George blushed even more heavily and looked down in shame. He had gotten hard by just one kiss. He felt so childish.

‘Your first kiss?’ Ringo asked as he caressed George’s cheek. George looked up with big eyes, but when he saw Ringo’s gently expression he slowly nodded yes. Ringo moved away and George was afraid he’d never wanted to see him again. But when he saw him looking down at his trousers and chuckled George wasn’t that scared anymore and turned away.

‘I… I err…’ He wanted to explain, but Ringo stopped him by spinning him back to him.

‘It’s okay. I had that too with my first kiss.’ He said sweetly. George looked at him and smiled. He was glad he understood. Ringo wrapped an arm around George’s waist and pulled him close against him.

‘What if anyone sees us?’ George asked as he realized where they were and what they were doing. Ringo let his fingers run into George’s hair and pulled him closer.

‘Relax. It’s fine. Nobody ever comes here. It’s safe.’ He said as he leaned in.

‘Okay…’ George said before Ringo’s pulled him in for another kiss. This time George moaned as their lips touched. 

* * *

 

George relaxed completely in Ringo’s save arms. He cupped Ringo’s cheek in his hand and pulled him closer as he slowly moved his tongue into his welcoming mouth. He moved his lips with Ringo’s at the same way they had done the first time, but slower and more lovingly. George felt Ringo smile against his lips.

‘You are a quick learner.’ Ringo said chuckling as they pulled away. George smiled weakly at him, feeling all gooey inside. Ringo smiled back and caressed his high cheekbones with his finger. George moved into the touch and closed his eyes as he enjoyed the feeling. Neither of them said something as the continued to hold and caress each other gently. George flinched slightly as he felt something touch his closed eyes. He slowly opened them once the feeling faded away. Ringo’s head was just inches away. He sighed as he realised Ringo had kissed him on his closed eyes. George thought that was really romantic. He wanted to tell Ringo he liked him and fancied him, but didn’t. He was too scared it would scare him off. Instead he just placed his lips against Ringo’s nose and kissed it, hoping Ringo would know what he meant.

           Suddenly there was a loud ‘bang’, which made both the man jump up. George clutched against Ringo and laid his head against his shoulder, for protection. Ringo looked up at the sky as he held George close against him.

‘Seems like there’s a storm coming.’ He said. George slowly relaxed and looked up too, still holding onto the older man tightly.

‘Romantic, huh?’ Ringo added as he looked back down at the young lad in his arms.

‘C-Can we go?’ The lad asked, his voice was shaking. Ringo raised an eyebrow.

‘I-I-I’m scared of t-thunder.’ George added shyly. His cheeks coloured red and his voice shaking even more. He felt embarrassed. He was sixteen! He couldn’t help but gripping and holding onto Ringo tighter as he heard another bang. He whined softly against Ringo’s chest, his muscles tighten up. He relaxed again as he felt Ringo rocking him back and forth to calm him down. He looked up at Ringo and bit his lip. Ringo nodded with a sweet smile.

‘Okay. Let’s go. I’ll get you home.’ He said as he caressed George’s cheek. George nodded, and held onto Ringo tightly as they walked.

           Ringo held up an umbrella and held George tightly by his shoulder as they walked on the pavement, towards George’s house. They had gotten some strange looks as people passed by, but neither Ringo or George cared. Ringo didn’t mind George’s closeness one bit, and the fact that he made him feel save made it even better. It was raining terribly. Water splashed on the street and wetted the part of their bodies that wasn’t protected by Ringo’s tiny umbrella.

           The last thing George wanted was reaching his house where he would have to say goodbye. But sometimes the things you want the least to happen, happen quicker than you had expected and soon George saw the first glimpse of his house. They walked slowly the last hundred meters until George stood still.

‘This is me.’ He said softly. Ringo looked at the house they stood before. It wasn’t big, but not small either. The lights in the house were out and Ringo wondered what the time was. He looked back at George.

‘Well, I guess this is goodbye then.’ He said. George nodded shyly. Ringo smiled.

‘I had a great time, though.’ He spoke as he laid his hand on George’s waist. George looked up at him and their eyes locked.

‘Me too.’ He replied and smiled back. Ringo slowly leaned closer to the younger man. When George realised what he wanted he grabbed him by his shoulders with both hands and placed his lips forcefully against Ringo’s. Ringo’s eyes widened but closed slowly and let his lips move with George’s.

‘You will call me, right?’ George asked as they broke away. Ringo chuckled.

‘If you want me to, I will.’ He answered. George smiled widely at the answer and kissed Ringo again briefly before turning around and running to the front door of his house. Ringo watched his as he ran to his house through the rain. He held his arms above his head, trying not to get too wet.

‘Do you want me too?’ Ringo yelled after George. George turned around with a grin.

‘Yes!’ He yelled back before waving and opening the door. Ringo waved back and stayed where he was for another couple of minutes after George had already closed the door behind him, letting everything work in on him, before he turned around and went home too, grinning like an idiot as he did so.

           George let himself fall down on his small bed. He had kept as quiet as possible and had bit his lip not to scream out as he had walked to his bedroom. Everyone was already asleep. George looked at the clock in his room. It was half past one. It was rare for him to stay out till that late, and he had certainly not thought that it was already that late. Time had flown when he had been with Richie. George grinned as he called Ringo ‘Richie’ in his head. He wondered if Ringo would mind if he called him Richie. It would be his pet name for him. George was certain he would like that. He sighed as the evening went by in his head. He just had his first kiss. His first! With Richie. George chuckled again as the thought of the name. George and Richie. Or Richie and George. Both sounded good in his head. He spoke the two names softly out loud. Sounded good in his ears too. He grinned and wiggled around in his bed. He knew he was acting like a school girl with a crush, but he didn’t care.  He sort of was, wasn’t he? He couldn’t wait to go over to Paul’s the next day and tell him all about his date and his first kiss. He bit his finger to keep him from screaming form excitement. He wondered when Ringo would call him. Maybe tomorrow? No, too early. George rolled onto his belly and laid his head in his pillow. He wanted to get up and scream from the top of his lungs, but he couldn’t. It annoyed him now.

           The next day George stood in front of Paul’s house and was ringing the bell as loudly as he could. The door was being opened by Paul’s father, who was still in his sleepwear. George said good morning and asked if Paul was in. Jim McCartney rubbed his eyes and told him he was at John’s.

‘Oh. Well, I’ll go and try there then.’ He said, his enthusiasm being still too much for Paul’s dad in the early morning.

‘Okay then, George. Tell him to get some milk from the supermarket before he goes home. We’ve run out. Goodbye.’ Jim said before throwing the door in the lad’s face. 

           ‘Your dad asked me to ask you to get some milk on your way home.’ George said to his friend who was making them both a cup of tea. Paul’s hair was messy and he was still wearing his pyjama. It wasn’t his own, as far as George could see. He guessed he must have borrowed one of John’s. They had both still been in bed when he had knocked on the door. He had woken Paul up, but John had stayed in, asleep. George was glad John wasn’t awake yet. He was always so grumpy in the mornings. George was certain John hated nothing more than waking up in the mornings. Paul wasn’t that bad in the mornings. After a few minutes he was his old happy, overexcited self again.

            ‘Did he, eh?’ Paul replied. He turned around to his younger friend with two hot, steamy cups of tea. He smiled as he handed George one. Then he sat down opposite of him. He took a sip before leaning on his hand and staring at George.

‘So, tell me. What has made you grin like a fool?’ he asked with a knowing smile. George blushed and took a sip too.

‘It’s that Ringo bloke, isn’t it?’ Paul asked, his smile turning into a sly grin.

‘Did he get in your pants, then?’ He joked. George nearly chocked. He shook his head.

‘No!’ He said in shock.

‘Then what is it?’ Paul asked with a chuckle, finding George’s reaction amusing.

‘We err… He and I we err…’ George said, while playing with his cup.

‘Oh for fuck’s sake, out with it Harrison!’ Paul rushed him up. George licked his lips.

‘He kissed me.’ He said softly, after which he starts to giggle like school girl. Paul’s jaw nearly dropped to his knees. His already, big eyes grew even bigger.

‘You’re joking! And on the first date, too! Way to go, George!’ He said. George bit his bottom lip and looked up at his older friend.

‘So, how was it?’ Paul asked, wanting to know as much as possible. He knew that George hadn’t kissed anyone before, so this was kind of big news. George told Paul how they had walked around after leaving the club and how they had been watching the stars together and how Ringo had given him his scarf to wear and that he still had it at home, so that he knew that Ringo would have to call him in order to get it back. And how finally Ringo had kissed him right there. He kept the information about him getting a boner as they had kissed and his little clutching due to the thunder a secret from his friend. Nobody needed to know about that. George’s voice skipped a little as he thought of the fact that Ringo knew. How embarrassing!

           Paul just listened and asked questions the entire time as George talked. He was glad that George had found someone he fancied and that that someone fancied him back. He couldn’t help but to smile at how happy and excited George was being. It was somewhat.

           ‘I’m glad you and Ringo like each other so much.’ He said as George was finished with his story. George, whose cheeks were still as red as a strawberry, nodded and drank the last of his tea.

‘And I see you have spent the night here,‘ George said with a cheeky look, ‘Isn’t that John’s?’ Paul laughed and nodded as he looked at what he was wearing.

‘Yeah. Not bad, eh? And no, nothing really happened.’ Paul said the last with a fake happy voice. George could hear that immediately. But he also noticed something else that made him curious. He leaned in a little close to his friend.

‘ _Really_? What do you mean, _really_?’ He asked. Paul’s eyes grew big. George thought it was probably because he hadn’t meant to say the _really_ part. He smirked.

‘Can’t keep it a secret from me, Paulie. You know that.’ He said a little playfully. Paul bit his lip, as the thought about what to do. Not tell, or tell. He choose the latter.

‘George, please keep quiet about this, okay? I mean, I don’t… It’s just too complicated to jump to conclusions just yet.’ He said. George licked his lip and looked at Paul with anticipation, waiting for him to tell him about last night. Paul leaned in a little closer, laid his hands on the table and started to play with his fingers.

‘John and I… We err…’ Paul was thinking of words to explain, George could tell, ‘Well… We were having a lovely time until the door rang, and Stuart showed up.’ Paul eyed George carefully for a reaction. The reaction on his face was the exact same as how he was feeling that moment. His jaw dropped en his questioning eyes grew wide. He couldn’t believe it. How? Why? They hadn’t heard anything from Stuart in ages! Why now? After so many days, weeks even! All kinds of confusing thought came running through his head, making him dizzy and feel both anger, sadness and worried. Not only about John but about Paul, too. How was he doing? What had happened between John and Stuart. What had happened between Paul and Stuart? Had they fought? Had Paul threw him out? Or had John done that? Had John punched him? Or had he ran into Stuart’s open arms with big tears in his eyes? Was Stuart upstairs now? George looked up. No, then Paul would have left, right? George didn’t know for sure anymore. Too many feelings, too many thoughts and too many questions kept him from thinking straight. They were messing with his head. George wished for a switch they would enable  him to put thoughts, feelings and questions on and off whenever he wanted. Unfortunately he didn’t get such a switch. Instead he had the privilege of getting an answer to one of his questions that worried him the most. Stuart wasn’t upstairs.

‘Where is he then? How did John react? How did you react? What happened? How is John doing now? He’s not depressed, is he? Oh god he is, isn’t he? Or is he back with Stuart? Why did he come here anyway? WHAT IS GOING ON, PAUL?!’ George shouted the last as he grabbed Paul’s arms with both hands and shook him, wanting, no needing, an answer. He had to know what had happened and what was going on. That stupid queer poof called Stuart shouldn’t have come here, that was the only thing George knew at this point. And if Stuart had hurt John in anyway. He was going to hurt Stuart. He loved John too much not to. 


	4. Chapter 4

August 7th 1959

‘I still can’t believe the git just got himself a date.’ John exclaimed from the cough. Paul turned his eyes to him. John was sucking on the cigarette between his lips like there was no tomorrow, but he didn’t look tense or anything like that. He had a broad smile across his face and there were little sparkles in his eyes. He looked happy and content. Paul was glad. John was finally his own carefree, happy self again. Paul sighed and let himself fall down on the cough next to his friend.

‘Yeah. The boy isn’t so bad either, is he?’ He asked, keeping his eyes on his friend. John grinned at him.

‘Getting jealous, you poofter?’ John asked. Paul shook his head and gave John a playful nudge in his side. John groaned and quickly moved away, wrapping his lips tightly around the cigarette to keep it from falling on the cough.

‘You’re queerer than me, Lennon! You actually _had_ a cock up your arse!’ Paul laughed. John’s smile faded from his face.

‘Something wrong?’ Paul asked as he noticed John’s sudden change of mood. John cleared his throat and shook his head as he looked away.

‘No… I-I’m fine.’ He said. Paul knew he tried to keep his cool, but his voice was cracking a little too much for Paul to believe he actually was fine. He wondered if he should ask any further. Push John to tell him what was the matter. He wanted to, but there was something in John’s attitude that stopped him. The two lads stayed quiet for a couple of minutes, both waiting for the other to say something to change the subject. Paul saw John chewing on his lip from the corner of his eye.

            ‘Stu has never…’ John finally said with a sigh. He didn’t finish the sentence.

‘He never did what?’ John heard Paul softly ask, like he was feeling reluctant to do so.

‘I… He… We never… Stuart has never… you know…’ John couldn’t get it passed his lips. Why was he telling Paul this? Wasn’t it weird? Why would Paul want to know anything about his sex life with Stuart, anyway?

‘He never fucked me.’ John finally said bluntly because he simply couldn’t find any better words for it. Not that he had planned saying it. He hadn’t. The words had just streamed out of his mouth, over his lips and into the open air for anyone to hear. John sighed and let his hand run through his hair.

‘Not like that, anyway.’ He added when Paul stayed quiet. Paul still didn’t reply. John slyly looked at his friend. He didn’t look shocked, or relieved for that matter, more like he hadn’t heard it.

‘Eh, you’re listening to me?’ John asked. Paul blinked a couple of times, like his mind had only then registered the words. He slowly stood up. John followed him with his eyes with curiosity.

‘Let’s just not talk about that, okay? You’re finally not breaking down any more by the thought of him. Let’s not ruin that.’ Paul spoke absently as he walked away. John frowned and stood up too. He had only now noticed Paul had not used Stuart’s name in front of him ever since he had broken up with him. And he still hadn’t. It wasn’t that John didn’t appreciate it. It was just a little strange and he couldn’t believe he hadn’t it noticed before. John decided to leave the subject to rest as he followed Paul into the kitchen.

            Paul leaned against the kitchen counter as he watched John prepare food for them. Or rather, did he just put some stuff together into a bowl to put into the oven later. Paul had no idea how it was going to taste. He had offered to cook for them, since he actually could cook, but John had declined, saying that it was fine like this. Paul had agreed then, but he regretted that now. It didn’t look very good.

             ‘Are you sure about that?’ Paul asked finally. John looked at the chopped union in his hand and back to Paul before nodding and throwing it in with the rest.

‘Better than nothing.’ He said. Paul chuckled and watched as John added the last things and popped it into the oven.

‘What? Don’t you think I can cook?’ John asked as he noticed Paul was watching him with a doubtful look. Paul shrugged.

‘Well…’ He said. He looked up at his friend and blushed slightly.

‘You really do think I can’t cook!’ John answered with astonishment. Paul snickered as he saw John’s face. His jaw had dropped and his eyes were big.

‘I can’t believe you, Macca! I really can’t!’ John said as he put his oven mitts on the table and walked over to him. Paul giggled and stepped back in the same pace as John was approaching him. John shook his head.

‘I’m very disappointed in you,’ He said, ‘I don’t know what to do with you.’ Paul giggled and stepped back a little quicker as John sped up.

            John tried hard not to laugh at Paul’s adorable face. He looked like a three year old who had done something bad, but thought that was funny. He grinned at Paul and quickly grabbed the sack of flower from the table and held it behind his back without Paul noticing. John laughed evilly as Paul’s back hit the wall. Paul looked around quickly, searching for a chance to run and hide, but John was too quick. He quickly moved very close so that they stood only a couple of inches apart before digging his hand in the sack and throwing the white powder into Paul’s face. Paul shrieked in surprise and tried to move away, but couldn’t. Within a second Paul’s entire face was covered in dry, white, tasteless powder.

‘John! ARGH! Now me entire face is covered in it! You git!’ Paul shrieked as he tried to wipe the stuff from his face. John grabbed his belly. He was laughing too hard and now it had started to hurt.

‘I’ll get you for this, Lennon!’ Paul said in an angry, but playful tone. John laughed even louder as he saw Paul’s face as he said that. Paul quickly looked around and grabbed a tomato which had been waiting to get into the bowl with all the other stuff. John duck away as Paul threw it in his direction. It missed him, but only just.

‘You throw like a bird!’ John joked. Paul put his hands in his side.

‘I’m a better thrower than you.’ He said. His voice sounded a bit too sassy to come over like he meant it. John couldn’t help but laugh even louder. Paul opened his mouth to say something but he was got off by the doorbell which had decided to start ringing non-stop. John’s laughing quieted down, but he still had a smirk on his face, which he couldn’t get away. He tried to hide it from Paul, by facing the other way.

‘Who on earth could that be? Are you expecting someone?’ John heard Paul ask. He shook his head no.

‘I’ll get it then.’ Paul said as he started to walk to the front door.

            Paul’s heart was beating fast inside his chest. He knew something was wrong. John and him didn’t expect anyone to come over. And John’s aunt was still gone. Maybe she would be back early. Paul wasn’t so sure about that. She would’ve called then. He knew she would. Paul brought his hand to the doorknob and turned it, opening the door and exposing the man who stood behind it. Paul’s jaw dropped.

             ‘You?!’ Paul was stunned. What was _he_ doing here?

‘Oh, hello Paul. Is John in?’ The lad asked. He seemed nervous, but Paul couldn’t give less than a shit about that.

‘That depends,’ he said, leaning against the doorframe, ‘What do you want?’

‘I just want to talk to him. We didn’t really part in a good way, as you are probably aware of.’ The older lad answered him politely. Paul bit the inside of his lip. How could he act so cool? Hadn’t he known how John had been feeling these last couple of weeks? The ignorant prat.

‘Paul! Who is it?’ The two men heard John yell from the kitchen. Next they heard the sound of footsteps coming closer and closer. Paul’s heart sped up. John could not see him. He quickly turned around but he was too late. John had already walked over to him and was now standing only two feet away.

‘It’s no one.’ Paul answered quickly. John cocked his head and walked over to the door. He gripped it and opened it further so he could see who it was.

‘What do you mean no one. That’s ridicul…’ John didn’t finish his sentence. Paul bit his lip and shrank a little, afraid of his friends reaction.

‘Oh… It’s you.’ John said, his mood had dropped immensely.

‘You’ve got some nerve, coming here after all that time.’ He said. Stuart smiled weakly and scratched the back of his head. John sighed and stepped aside.

‘Come in then. Let’s get this over with.’ He said. Paul’s eyes shot open. John was letting that asshole in?! Stuart walked past him into the house and flashed him a smile. Paul swore to himself. This wasn’t good.

            John stayed standing as Stuart sat down on a chair in the living room. He had asked Paul to leave and let him handle this, and after some struggling of Paul he had been able to lock him in the kitchen with their dinner that still had to be made. He wanted to do this by himself. He had to. If he didn’t do this he would never be able to really stop thinking about him and move on. Maybe even start something with Paul, if Paul still wanted him. The whole idea of him and Paul being together had taken a nice place inside his mind and it still sounded weird to him, but Paul was a great lad. And he truly cared for him. John knew that now. That had been the first reason that he had started to really consider it. That and the fact that Stuart had gotten a whole other place in his heart. But it wasn’t time to think about that now. He first had to deal with Stuart. The lad looked a little insecure and was wiggling around in the chair nervously as he tried to avoid any eye contact with John. John couldn’t help but grin a little. Stuart was vulnerable. Or at least more than John. Which meant that John had a little advantage here. If he didn’t break down now.

            He cleared his throat, making Stuart turn his face to him, but he still avoided his eyes. John sighed and sat down on a chair opposite of him.

‘What do you want, Stu?’ he asked. He was happy with the way his voice sounded, strong, loud and confident. Stuart bit his lip.

‘You came here. If you have nothing to say, I want you to go now. We’re over if you haven’t noticed that already. You have no reason to be here, except if you want to tell me something.’ He said firmly. Stuart looked up at him in shock, making eye contact. Stuart’s eyes were big and looked a little frightened.

‘John… I-I-I’m… I didn’t mean to…’ Stuart started. His voice didn’t sound as broken as he looked. Maybe unsure, but not scared or insecure or anything.

‘If you’re going to come with that, I’d…’ John interrupted but Stuart quickly spoke.

‘No! I just want to talk to you about everything. I want to explain. Maybe you’ll understand then.’

‘Understand? _Understand?_ You really are a nutter, aren’t you?’ John said with an mean chuckle. Stuart squeezed his hands and bit down his teeth.

‘Just listen, okay.’ He asked again. John grinned and sat back as he beckoned him to start his story.

‘I really am sorry about what happened. With Jen. I really am. I just… It just all sort of happened.’ He started. John scoffed. Stuart flashed him a warning look. John fell quiet again.

‘We were working on something together for class and we hit it off right away. We started to hang out and she was a really nice girl. Then one evening we were working late at college and we drank a little to make it all go easier. And I had never realised how pretty she was until then. I had told her about you and she didn’t seem to mind at all. She was rather curious actually,’ Stuart continued with a slight chuckle, ‘We started talking and she asked about you and me and how it was between lads and I told her. I was out of me head then. She was too and so I told her. She asked if I didn’t miss well… you know. The entering part and I told her I did sometimes. So she offered it herself and I accepted. How could I not?! It had been ages for me! And she was damn fine! You’ve seen her, John. You know that she probably has two of the biggest breast of our year in college. How could I refuse? I was drunk, for fuck’s sake!’ he said. John had stayed quiet the entire time. He slowly began to wonder if it had been his fault. Stuart had told him he missed it and had hinted at switching roles, but he had always laughed it off. That was the turning point, wasn’t it? Getting fucked… Had Stuart cheated on him just because he wanted to say that he wasn’t really queer? So that he could say to people that he only did it because of Stuart? So that he could turn down offers because he wasn’t really queer. That it was only Stuart? It was… It was all his fault.

            ‘John?’ Stuart asked after a few minutes of silence. John snapped back to reality and immediately picked up his part again. He smirked.

‘Are you seriously trying to make it look like it was my fault? Because I wouldn’t let you? Is that it?’ He asked. He sounded a bit more defensive than he wanted, but it did work to scare Stuart off.

‘NO, I just… I’m just saying that it was drunk and horny and she was there!’ he said quickly not wanting John to get angry. He had been able to avoid being beaten up once, and he didn’t think he could be now.

‘All I’m saying is that I love you. And that I wasn’t thinking. Please john. You must believe me. You understand it right?’ He asked. John shook his head.

‘Then why did you kiss her goodbye? Why did you let her touch you? Why did you buy her chocolate? Why, Stu? Why?’ John said angrily, ‘ I bet you weren’t drunk that night when Paul caught you two! You seemed pretty sober that night!’

‘I-i-i…’ Stuart searched for words. He didn’t know any.

‘Why did you fuck her again?’ John asked. He wanted to know. If Stuart wanted to tell, let him. He thought.

‘I don’t know! Okay! I-I… I couldn’t ditch her after that, could I? I’m not the kind of lad that can just shag with a random girl and not feel responsible!’ He tried.

‘Responsible? She wasn’t pregnant!’ John began to shout. He wanted Stuart out. He was done with him. It had all been his fault anyway. If he hadn’t been such a bird about it and had just let Stuart fuck him, then this wouldn’t have happened in the first place! It was all his fault…

‘You’re mad at me, because I’m actually a nice guy?!’ Stuart tried again, although he knew John had won. John saw that in his attitude.

‘If that’s what you want to believe, then YES!’ John arose from his chair in one smooth move. Stuart stood up too in a reflex.

‘Listen, you fucking asshole! Being drunk and do it, okay. But don’t continue it after that!’ He said as he moved over to Stuart and grabbed him with two hands by his shirt and pushed him up against the wall. Stuart groaned as his head hit the hard wall.

‘John… Please… I love you… I really do. I was wrong. I’m so sorry, but please try and understand. I knew it was only for a short period of time! I never thought that you would catch me with her.’ Stuart pleaded. John let go of him and turned his back to him.  Stuart fixed his ruffled clothing.

‘Just leave, okay. I don’t want to see you again. Just leave…’ John said. Stuart didn’t move. John asked again. When he didn’t move John turned around and smashed his fist against Stuart face. He knew he wasn’t being fair. It had been his fault. He couldn’t blame Stuart for being horny and a little too nice. But he didn’t care. If he wanted Stuart to leave he had to be hard to him. Stuart didn’t deserve him. He was too selfish and too much of an idiot to deserve Stuart. He heard Stuart groan loudly and something inside of him calmed down. He took a deep breath and stormed out of the room, up the stairs to his own bedroom. He heard Paul call after him, if everything was alright and that he had heard a loud thud. John didn’t answer him.

            ‘John… John, are you okay?’ Paul softly asked as he opened the door to John’s bedroom. It was completely dark. Paul swallowed thickly. This wasn’t good. He didn’t really know what had happened. He had seen Stuart sitting against the wall, trying to stop the bleeding of his nose. He had coldly handed him a cloth and had asked him to leave. Stuart had gotten up and left without saying a word. Paul had no idea what had been going on in there except that John had hit him. Had Stuart also hit John? Paul didn’t know. He did know that there was something wrong with John.

            He slowly crept into the room. He couldn’t see a thing. He slowly moved himself to the window and opened the curtain. It was dark outside. He looked around and noticed that it didn’t help much, but it gave the small room at least a little bit of a glow. Paul now saw shapes. He saw John’s little closet and his small desk. He saw books and drawings lying on top of it, with different kinds of pencils next to them. He couldn’t see what the drawings were, but it didn’t matter. He turned into the direction of John’s bed. He saw John lying on top of it, back facing him, his face to the wall. Paul sighed and walked over to his friend. John didn’t react, but Paul was certain John had heard him. His breathing had slowed down and was more irregular. Paul moved his hand to John’s shoulder, but just before he toughed it, he changed his mind. Instead he kneeled down before John’s bed and leaned with his chin on it.

‘John…’ He repeated again, softly and gently. John didn’t react. Paul moved his hand to John’s shoulder again and laid it down. He felt John tense up a little under his touch.

‘John, I know you’re awake.’ Paul said a little louder. John slowly rolled on his back. Paul smiled as John turned his face to him. But it faded quickly as he saw John’s eyes were a little swollen and slightly red. He had been crying. Paul remembered the time when George had called him up and told him John had been crying. But Paul had never seen much of it. It was strange seeing his best mate, his strong mate cry. His throat thickened, making it hard for him to swallow.

‘It’s my fault…’ John spoke softly in a broken voice. He sounded like he was on the edge of tears. Paul gave his shoulder a little squeeze.

‘It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t…’ John spoke again.

‘John…’ Paul replied, shushing John, ‘What are you talking about? Has something happened?’ John shook his head.

‘It’s all my fault, Paul. Everything. This whole thing. It’s my fault everything is such a mess.’ He said as he stared up at the ceiling.

‘John, I don’t get it. What is?’ Paul asked again. He knew it had something to do with Stuart, but what?

‘It’s my fault he cheated. If I only had let him. Then nothing would have happened.’ John continued. Paul sighed.

‘John. Be clear.  What should you have done?’ He asked again. John sat up and leaned on his hands as he looked at Paul. Paul saw John’s eyes were wet again.

‘Everything is my fault. He was frustrated Paul. I didn’t… I couldn’t…’ John swallowed thickly, ‘You remember what I told you, right? About me and Stuart. That I had never let him…’ Paul quickly nodded. He didn’t want to torture John by making him say that.

‘That’s why he… He need her Paul. Because I wouldn’t. It’s all my fault. Just because I didn’t… Just because I… Because I didn’t want to be… queer.’ John muttered.

‘It’s all my fault! I’m just a stupid, selfish bastard.’ John felt a tear run down his cheer. Paul shook his head and gripped at John’s shoulder a little tighter.

‘John. Don’t say that. That’s just stupid. That’s no reason to cheat. I mean… You still like it, right? Don’t you say such a thing.’ Paul said soothingly.

‘It is! It is my fault!’ John suddenly started to sob. He let his head fall against Paul’s shoulder. Paul didn’t know what else to do but to wrap his arms around his mate and hold him close. When John didn’t move away, Paul tightened his grip and began to rock him from left to right.

‘It’s all my fault, Paul. I’m a terrible boyfriend. I should’ve noticed. It’s all my fault.’ John sobbed as he buried in the crook of his neck. Paul moved his fingers into John’s hair and started to play with it, knowing it made John calm down. And it did once again. His sobbing lessened and he slowly relaxed into Paul’s arms.

‘John…’ Paul whispered softly into John’s ear. John hummed as a reply.

‘Don’t ever say that what has happened was your fault, okay. He cheated. Not you.’ Paul told him sternly. John slowly nodded.

‘It’s not your fault he cheated, John. He should have said something. He should have talked to you about it, okay. Don’t ever think this is your fault.’

            John nodded, even though he wasn’t sure if that was true. He wanted to believe Paul. He truly did. But he couldn’t. It was his fault. But he nodded anyway. He would start to believe it sooner or later. Even though he knew he couldn’t now, he would someday. So he nodded. He slowly moved his head away. Paul was looking straight at him, looking into his eyes.  

‘Don’t cry any more. I don’t like it when you cry.’ He said with a faint smile. John stared at Paul’s face. The little light coming from his bedroom window, gave it a slight glow. He saw how Paul’s long eyelashes gave slight shadows around his eyes, making them look even bigger. John smiled back and moved his fingers to Paul’s chubby cheek. He stroked it with his thumb. Paul’s smile faded from his face. His lips parted slightly. John stared at them. They were red and plump. John wanted to know how they would feel against his. It wasn’t the first time he had thought that. But he let himself think that now. He looked back up and met Paul’s brown puppy eyes.

‘Can I…’ John said, his voice husky, ‘Paul I… Can I kiss you?’ Paul’s eyes grew wide as he asked that. His lips parted slightly more. John could feel his hands hold him tighter. He gently moved his finger to Paul’s lips. He slowly let it run over it. Paul’s lips started to tremble with want. John slowly let his eyes close just a little as he leaned closer. He could feel Paul trembling. It excited him. He moved his thumb away and cupped Paul’s cheek as he held Paul’s shoulder with the other.

‘Can I?’ John asked again, wanting to be sure Paul was okay with it. Paul slowly nodded and moved closer too.

‘Yes…’ He answered. His voice was shaking. John swallowed thickly. Was he really doing this? Why was he doing this? This was Paul! He wasn’t going to kiss Paul was he? John slowly began to doubt if he really could do this. But before he could back out, Paul had grabbed John tightly and had pulled him against him. John tensed up as he felt his lips touch Paul’s. They felt firm, yet soft and gently against his. His eyes fluttered close and his body relaxed. His cheeks flushed red as he heard Paul moan against his mouth. 

* * *

 

‘Oh my! He kissed ya?!’ George asked with open mouth as he stared at his older friend, who was now blushing. Paul slowly nodded. George made a small, high pitched noise which made Paul chuckle.

‘And…?’ George asked.

‘And what?’ Paul asked. George smiled naughtily.

‘Did you kiss back? Well, of course you did! What happed after that?’ He asked. Paul shrugged.

‘I wouldn’t even know. We broke the kiss and John thanked me and I said: you’re welcome. He stared at me for a couple of seconds, like he wanted to tell me something, but didn’t know how. So, I asked him what was up and he told me to forget about it. He stood up and asked if I minded if he went to bed. I told him I did not and that I wanted to go to bed as well… I don’t think he caught onto what I actually meant, though. We just changed and went to sleep. I woke up before him, as you know.’ Paul explained. George’s face went blank. He had no idea what to think about that. Why was everything going to well for him and Richie, but not for Paul and John?! George hadn’t a clue, apart from the fact that both Paul and John were pretty suborn and him and Richie weren’t, as far as he knew.

‘But he did kiss you?’ George asked again, wanting to be sure he had heard Paul right. Paul nodded.

‘Yeah. He did…’ He said in a dreamy voice. George smiled.

‘How was it? Anything like you thought it would be?’ He asked. Paul nodded.

‘Yeah, but so much better. It’s kind of surreal still. Maybe that’s because nothing happened after that. I don’t know…’ Paul answered, ‘But it felt like as if our lips were made for each other. They fitted together so well. I never had a kiss like that, before. It was wonderful. Truly wonderful.’ George sighed.

‘I hope things will progress a little now. I mean, you both know you like each other, now. I mean for sure.’ He said. Paul bit his lip. George noticed.

‘Right?’ He asked. Paul let a hand run through is hair.

‘I don’t know, Geo. What if he just needed some company and I was there. Maybe he would’ve kissed you if you had been there! No offence by the way. I’m just not so sure. He acted too cold after that. I seriously begin to doubt if the kiss wasn’t just a fucking dream!’ George sighed and laid his hand over Paul’s, making him look up at him.

‘I’m certain it wasn’t like that, Paul. Really.’ He said. Paul smiled weakly. George could see he didn’t really believe it.

‘Thanks, George.’

‘Anytime, mate.’ George replied with a silly little wink, making Paul chuckle.

            ‘What so funny?’ The two lads suddenly heard from the door. Paul tensed up, but George turned to his other friend with a happy, in-love grin on his face.

‘I’ve been kissed!’ He said. John chuckled and sat down next to Paul.

‘Now, that is funny!’ He said. He looked nervously at Paul, who blushed and looked away. John swallowed thickly. Paul stood up.

‘Do you want some tea?’ He asked. John shook his head.

‘No, I’ll have yours.’ It was like Paul hadn’t even heard him right. He just simply nodded and sat back down, but further away with his chair from John. John took Paul’s cup and drank a little. He raised an eyebrow when Paul didn’t object. George stared from the one to the other and back to the first again.

‘What?’ John asked as he saw George looking. Paul gave him a warning glare. George swallowed thickly.

‘Nothing. I just find it funny how suborn and stupid you both are.’ He said bluntly. He was fed up with it. They were acting like a bunch of childish schoolboys! George didn’t get it. They were both totally crazy about the other and they know it as well! What’s the big deal. Maybe all the need is just a little push.

            Paul’s eyes had grown so big that George was afraid his eyeballs would fall out of his head. John just looked confused. Like he didn’t know what George was talking about. George chuckled.

‘Look at you two! You guys are both idiots. You both like each other, and you know it from each other as well! Hell, you guys have even kissed! What’s the fucking problem?!’ George asked.

‘Eh, watch your mouth. Didn’t your mum tell you not to use bad words!’ John said while standing up from his chair, hoping he could avoid the subject. George grinned at his pointless afford.

‘John…’ Paul started. John turned to him. Paul gave him a warning look. John fell quiet and let himself fall back on his chair. Now George stood up.

‘Now, if you will excuse me. I’m going to leave this room and when I get back I want you guys to have worked this out.’ He said. John looked up at him.

‘Look who’s getting all high and mighty after his first kiss. Freaking virgin.’ John shot to his friend, annoyed. He avoided Paul’s eyes, knowing he was not approving of his behaviour. But he didn’t care. He wasn’t his mum! George did feel a little hurt by that comment. It wasn’t like it was his fault! But it hurt him slightly. He bit on the inside of his mouth. Then he walked away without another word.

            ‘I can’t fucking believe you, John!’ Paul said stunned. John turned and walked away from Paul. Paul watched him with big eyes.

‘You know George doesn’t like comments like that.’ He said. John turned back around and leaned with his hands on the kitchen counter. He looked at Paul with a daring look in his eyes.

‘Since when do you care?!’ He asked. Paul shook his head in a disapproving manner. John kept quiet and looked away. He didn’t like it when Paul looked at him like that. He wanted Paul to approve of him. But somehow he always did the wrong things.

‘Let’s just forget about it, okay?’ Paul said with a big sigh. John looked back at his friend. Paul stood up and slowly walked over to him. John felt his body tense up. His heart sped up with every step Paul took. Every step that made him come so much closer. And it scared him. It just plainly scared him.

‘John, why did you kiss me?’ Paul asked softly when he stood only a few feet away from John. John felt his throat tighten. His mouth became dry and he felt he was sweating slightly. His armpits became somewhat damp. He opened his mouth to say something but he couldn’t find any words. Paul was looking at him with big puppy eyes, waiting for an answer with anticipation. John wished he had one. But he didn’t. He had been thinking about that question pretty much since he had woken up. And he still felt the same as when he had awoken. Confused, panicky, scared… What scared him the most was that whenever he looked down at Paul’s lips he could feel them back on his own again. He could feel their softness, their firmness. How they had moved against him in such a teasingly, but extremely good way. And he could even remember what they tasted like. Vividly.

‘I don’t know, Paul. I was a fucking mess. I wouldn’t kissed anyone just  to feel a little loved.’ John heard himself say. He knew that wasn’t true. Well not completely. Sure he wanted to feel loved. But by Paul only. And he wanted to make Paul feel loved as well. But he couldn’t get it passed his lips. John saw the look in Paul’s eyes change. He saw the sparkles of hope drain from them. He saw how they lost their lovingly gaze and how they got hollow and hurt. John wanted to reach over for Paul. He wanted to press him against himself and hold him tightly. He wanted to whisper in his ears how much of a fool he was and tell him how much he meant to him. He wanted to kiss the lips that had now lost their cherry colour and were trembling. But he didn’t.

‘Come on, Macca. Did you seriously think that I actually liked you?! Don’t be daft.’ He said instead. John saw how Paul’s eyes got wet. He saw how his lips trembled and how he bowled his hands into fists. He could see he was biting his tongue and tried to hold back his tears. John cocked his head.

‘Macca…’ John said in a patronizing way like a grown-up who talked to a kid who had just said something stupid and naïve.

‘Fuck you, Lennon.’ Paul said not angry, not sad, but coldly. He turned around and walked away. John stayed where he was, not being able to move. He felt stupid and dumb and he felt something wet run down over his cheek as he heard the front door close. John quickly wiped it away.

            John was lying face down on the cough when George walked into the living room. Since he thought that his two idiotic friends would have made up by now, the sight of John lying there with Paul’s shirt clutched in his hands came as a surprise for him. He carefully walked closer to John.

‘John?’  He asked carefully. John didn’t react.

‘John, what happened?’ George said as he sat down on his legs at the couch. John turned his head to him. George smiled sweetly at him.

‘I’m an idiot, George. Just a fucking idiot.’ He said. George’s smile faded from his face. John sat up and let go of Paul’s shirt, which fell on the ground.

‘John, Where’s Paul?’ George asked carefully. John shrugged.

‘Dunno. He left. It’s all my fault too…’ George laid a hand on John’s knee and looked up at him, straight into his eyes. John didn’t look away.

‘Of course it isn’t. Don’t be stupid. What’s happened?’ George asked again. John bit his lower lip. George sighed, got up and sat down next to him.

‘John. If you won’t tell me, I can’t help you.’ He said. John turned his face to him and shook his head.

‘No. No one can help. I’ll find a way to mess it up again. I’m hopeless. Paul doesn’t deserve me. No one does.’ He said. George took a hold of John’s hand and squeezed.

‘Don’t talk like that. Just tell me. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you might think.’ He said. John sighed and let himself fall back on the couch.

‘Paul hates me. He was mad at me for being such a prick and he asked why I had kissed him and I didn’t tell him the truth. I said it was because I wanted comfort, which is true. But also not true and then I said that I would have kissed any one then and that I didn’t really like him and that he was being foolish and then he got angry and sad and I wanted to hold him and tell him that that wasn’t the truth and that I actually loved him but I didn’t and he left…’ John rambled on. George didn’t stop him. He knew John had to get this out. Though, George had known that John loved Paul it came a bit by surprise when he actually said it. But that could also have been because he was being so blunt about it. George looked at his friend. He looked truly broken. And even thought George did think John was a prick for saying that, he still wrapped his arm around John’s shoulder and  pulled him against him. John laid his head on his shoulder.

‘I really fucked things up, didn’t I? I finally had the guts to kiss him and now I’ve done something like this,’ John took a deep breath, ‘But maybe it’s better this way. Maybe it’s a good thing this has happened. I would have hurt Paul eventually and he deserves better than me. He deserves someone who’s sweet and kind and caring and loving and someone who doesn’t hurt him. Someone smart and artistic. Someone handsome and not fat like me…’

‘John, you’re being stupid. You’re not fat and Paul deserves the one he loves and that’s you.’ George spoke softly.

‘He doesn’t love me. And if he ever did he doesn’t, now any more. I fucked up.’ John said. George could hear he was on the edge of tears. He took a hold of John’s shoulder and pushed him further away from him. He looked deep into his eyes.

‘Stop it, Lennon! Or… Or… Or I’ll break every record you own!’  George warned his older friend sternly. John nodded slowly, knowing that George wasn’t bluffing.

‘You are a lovely guy and Paul loves you. He really does. I’ve seen the way he looks at you and believe you me, that man loves you more than you could ever imagine. More than he could ever imagine, I’m sure. Don’t think so low of yourself. Paul can’t shut up about how great you are. It’s a little annoying, but still. And he’s right. Most of the times. You’re a wonderful guy and absolutely not a fat one! Now! Be a man and get your shit together. You’re not the only one who’s having it tough. Do you have any idea of amount of shit Paul has gone through?!’ George asked sternly. John shook his head. George grinned. His words were getting into the man’s head.

‘No, I already thought so. I’m not going to tell you about that, because I don’t think Paul would like that, but now it’s your time to fight for the one you love, okay? Be a fucking man, Lennon!’ George continued. John nodded again.

            It was dark and silent outside. Paul was hanging with his head out of his window. The cold wind was blowing softly around his ears. They had started to tinkle. The hot summer days had started to cool down. Much to Paul’s rejoice. He liked the feeling of the cool air on his skin. He liked autumn and spring. And cool summers. Not too hot. He didn’t like winters, though. Too cold for his liking.

            Paul sighed. It was late. Even his dad had gone to bed already.  He had tried to sleep. He really had. The only thing that had kept him from sleeping was the fact that every time he closed his eyes, John popped up in his head. And he didn’t want to think about him. He just wanted to forget about him. How dare he kiss him and then say it didn’t mean anything?! John didn’t care about his feelings at all! Paul groaned and got back inside. He closed the window, but kept the curtains open. The light of the moon and the stars might just be what he needed to fall asleep. Something delicate and beautiful to look at. Paul let himself fall on his back on the bed. He curled himself up in a little ball and hugged his legs as he watched the shadows moving on the wall. Sometimes they were just like little movies. Paul kept his eyes strictly on the wall. He watched how the shapes danced the night away. After a couple of minutes he felt his eyelids get heavy and slowly fall down, closing his eyes and blocking out the silver light and the stories on the walls.

            But his peaceful sleep didn’t last long. It only took him about an hour before he was awoken by the sound on something tapping on his window. At first Paul tried to block the annoying tapping sound from his head. He rolled onto his stomach and grabbed his pillow, which he put over his head. Paul stayed quietly in bed, with his eyes shut tightly for a few seconds. When he didn’t hear anything anymore he slowly relaxed a little. But before he could fall back into his deep sleep there were more ticks on the window. Paul groaned and quickly got out of bed to see what it was and stop it so he could go back to sleep. He looked through the window. He couldn’t see anything that could have made the sound. Then suddenly a small rock came flying at him. When it tapped against the window it made the sound that had woken Paul up. Paul quickly looked down and searched for someone who could have thrown it.  Paul saw a figure standing on the pavement. It was waving at him. Paul raised his hand and waved back with curiosity. The figure beckoned him to come over before he laid something down and quickly walked away. Paul watched as the dark figure walked away. Then he looked back at the place where the figure had laid something down. Paul was curious. Very curious. He bit his lip and he tried to figure out what to do. It only took him a few seconds before he quickly grabbed a jacket and put it on as he crept down the stairs and to the front door.

            Paul shivered as he walked over the cold street to where he thought the figure had left something. To his surprise, he found it rather quickly, even though it was dark. It was an envelope. Paul could see there was something written on it, but it was too dark to read. He held onto it tightly as he ran back to the house.

            Paul quickly crawled under the covers once he was back inside. He was still cold, but he didn’t care. He moved one hand from the covers and switched the light on his bed stand on. The warm glow filled the room and Paul looked at the envelope. There was something written on it. Paul recognized the handwriting which made his stomach ache and his heart beat faster. It was from John. He’d recognize that messy handwriting everywhere. Paul swallowed thickly as he opened the envelope. There was a card. It was put in in such a way that Paul saw the writing right away. It said:

 

_I’m sorry. I’m an idiot…_

_Ps. George is going to break my records._

Paul stared at the card. He didn’t know what he felt. Though it wasn’t much, it was more than he had expected of John. John never apologized. Never. Paul sighed and let the letter fall on the ground. He let himself fall on his back with his head in his pillow. He stared up to the ceiling. He didn’t know what to do anymore. He loved John. Or at least that’s what he thought. And even now. But he wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to give into John. What if something would happen and it would ruin their friendship? Paul groaned when he realised he had already practically ended their friendship. He rolled onto his tummy and looked down at the card which lay on the ground. He wanted John. But… Everything was just too damn complicated… Paul sighed again and picked the card back up. When it was close enough he saw there was something written on the back of it. It wasn’t very readable, but he could see what it said. He smiled, tears were slowly forming in his eyes as he read it.

 

_If I fell in love with you,_

_Would you promise to be true._

_And help me understand._

_‘Cause I’ve been in love before_

_and I found that love was more_

_Than just holding hands._

_If I give me heart to you,_

_I must be sure_

_From the very start_

_That you_

_would love me more than him._

_If I trust in you, Oh please._

_Don’t run and hide._

_If I love you, too. Oh please._

_Don’t hurt my pride like him._

_‘Cause I couldn’t stand the pain._

_And I would be sad if our new love,_

_Was in vain._

_So I hope you see,_

_That I would love to love you_

_And that he will cry_

_When he learns we are two._

_‘Cause I couldn’t find that pain._

_And I, would be sad if our love,_

_Was in vain._

_So I hope you see,_

_That I would love to love you_

_And that he will cry._

_When he learns we are two._

_If I fell in love with you…_

* * *

 

John stared out of his window. He had his notebook in front of him and a pencil in his right hand, on which his head rested. The sun came shining in and gave the room the warm end-of-summer glow. Yet, it didn’t give him any comfort. He was nervous. He wasn’t just staring out of a window. He was watching the young lad down there, on the street. The lad had something white clutched in his first. He walked up and down the street. To the house. And back. To the house. And back again. John didn’t really know what to do. Just wait and see? Or should he walk over to him? Neither sounded very good in his head. John unconsciously moved the end of his pencil to his lips and started chewing it as he watched Paul intensely. The younger man clutched to his cigarette as he looked around. John could see he was nervous as well. In his mind he encouraged Paul to walk over and ring to bell. His lips formed the words _come on, come on, ring the damn bell_ continuously, but no sound came out. With every step Paul took closer to his house, John’s heart sped up like crazy. He felt like he was going to have an heart attack. But with every step he took away from him, he felt his heart sink down and being filled with dark, cold smoke.  John didn’t know which one he preferred. Luckily for him, he didn’t have to be in this agony, that had been going on for about half an hour now, any longer. He saw how Paul took a deep breath and quickly ran over to his house. Within only a few seconds after Paul had disappeared out of eyesight, John heard the doorbell ring. He felt his throat tighten as he slowly rose up from his chair. He threw his pen away onto his desk, after which he walked out of his room, down the stairs and to the front door, where Paul would be waiting for him with a nervous, insecure expression. John himself took also a deep breath before he placed his hand on the doorknob and turned it.

            John swallowed thickly as he saw Paul standing there. He felt his hands got clammy and he started to sweat. His voice was wavy as he asked Paul to come in.

‘Thanks.’ Paul replied. He himself sounded very nervous as well, in his own way. His voice was completely monotonous and tight. Paul walked in and took off his light jacket and hung it away. John closed the door behind and let them into the living room. He beckoned Paul to sit down.

‘Where’s Mimi?’ Was the first thing Paul asked as he seated himself on John’s couch. John smiled with uneasiness.

‘Out.’ He said dryly, not being able to say much more, because he had a feeling he would throw up if he did. Paul nodded and took out a package of cigarettes and a lighter of his pocket.

‘Want one?’ Paul asked as he placed one between his lips. John declined by raising a hand while shaking his head “no”.  Paul shrugged, lit his fag and put everything back in his pocket. In his other hand he still held onto that more than familiar note. 

‘I see you’ve got me letter.’ John said as he pointed at Paul’s hand. Paul looked down and nodded with a blush.

‘Yeah…’ he answered, ‘I did.’ He took a drag and let the smoke roll from his lips, letting the nicotine relax his nerves. Allowing him to think clearer. Or less, rather.

‘So, what did you think?’ John asked. Paul moved a little on the couch, uncomfortably.

‘Well…’ He spoke softly, ‘We can’t have George breaking your record now, can we?’ John chuckled and looked down at his fingers as he let them play together.

‘No, no we can’t.’ he answered with a slight, careful smile. Paul looked up at him and smiled back at his answer. John sighed and let himself fall onto a chair that stood behind him and right in front of Paul.

‘I am sorry, you know.’ He spoke, his voice tired and heavy. Paul bit his lip but didn’t say anything. John rubbed his forehead as he looked down at the ground.

‘I didn’t mean it,’ He continued, ‘That I would have kissed anyone, I mean. I wouldn’t. Only you.’  Paul looked up and let himself fall back into the couch.

‘Why, John?’ He asked as he played with the ciggie between his fingers.

‘Why what?’

‘Why me? Why now? Why kiss me? John, I’ve had this crush on you ever since I’ve met you and now you’re acting like this! I just don’t understand, John. At first you tell me you don’t like me that way, then you write that song for me, then you don’t ever mention anything about it, then you suddenly kiss me, then you say you didn’t mean it like that and now you wrote me this! I don’t know what to think anymore, John. I don’t. I don’t get it.’ Paul explained with a sigh. He leaned forward and put his ciggie out in the ashtray on the coffee table. 

‘I never said anything about a song!’ John exclaimed as he realised what Paul had just said. Paul looked up and swallowed thickly. John narrowed his eyes, waiting for an explanation.

‘I-i…’ Paul stammered, ‘I heard… I heard you play.’ He sat completely still in his seat, watching John closely to see what kind of reaction he could expect.

‘When?’ John asked, confused. Paul shrugged.

‘It was a couple of days after we had sort of made up. We had been hanging around all day at your house and I had fallen asleep on your bed. I woke up again and you weren’t there, so I went to find you and you were playing on the piano, so I just stood there and listened. You were still writing the song, but it was nearly finished.’ He said. John didn’t know what to say. Paul had heard that?! He had never even noticed.

‘You weren’t supposed to hear that.’ He said softly as he looked down again.

‘I know…’ Paul answered. John sighed and sat up in his chair.

‘Paul, I know I’m not the easiest person to live with. I’ve been told that many times…’ He said, his voice calm, soft and sort of sad. Paul looked hopefully at his friend, waiting with anticipation for what John was going to say.

‘But you have to understand that this whole thing has been rather confusing for me, too.’ John continued. Paul bit his lip and nodded.

‘At first I was all happy with Stu and then you come and say he’s cheating on me! And then when I lost him I nearly lost you, too. And I didn’t want that. I don’t really understand it all myself, Paul. But when I thought about losing you, that made me even sadder than when I figured out that Stuart was cheating on me and told him to leaving.’ John said, his voice getting softer and softer with every word. Paul didn’t say anything.

‘I think that I had never realised that… that I enjoyed spending time with you more than with Stuart.’ John added, hoping Paul would say something. It was good, getting it all out, but on the inside it was killing him. He was so nervous for what Paul was going to think about this all. He hoped so that George was right and that Paul would still want him.

             ‘John,’ Paul finally spoke, ‘Promise me that this is what you really want. Promise me that you won’t be pushing me away again tomorrow. Because I don’t think I could deal with that. Not again.’ Paul’s voice sounded sad and helpless. Tired of everything that had happened the last couple of weeks. John looked up and smiled sweetly.

‘I won’t, Paul.’ He said. Paul bit his lip and looked back down again. John sighed and arose from his seat. He moved over to Paul and kneeled down in front of him. He gently stroked Paul’s cheek with the back of his hand, making him look up at him.

‘Paul, please believe me. I can’t do without you. I’m not going to push you away, anymore. I promise, I won’t.’ He said again as he took Paul’s hands in his and squeezed.

‘Good, because I’ll kill you if you do.’ Paul replied with a shy smile. John chuckled and looked up deeply into Paul’s hazel eyes.

‘I like you, Paul. More than you think. Probably more than I know. But please… Let me kiss you.’ John asked. Paul’s eyes grew wide as he heard John’s request. He couldn’t help but grin a little as he looked down at John’s thin lips.

‘You don’t have to ask anymore, John.’ He said as he wrapped his arms tightly around John’s neck and pulled him closer. John smiled widely and placed his hands on Paul’s hips as he cocked his head and leaned in. Paul did the same and let his eyes fall close as he felt John’s warm breath on his face, followed by the wonderful feeling of John’s lips against his. This time without any fear of being rejected. He moaned as their mouths melted together. His cheeks got hot and reddened quickly as John moved his lips against his own, practically massaging him. Paul slowly moved his fingers up into John’s auburn hair,  playing with it as they continued to kiss. Slowly, both of them afraid to rush things. But both wanting so much more at the same time. Paul slowly opened his eyes as he pulled away from John’s warm and sweet lips. He smiled as he saw John’s eyes were still closed. He chuckled and let his forehead rest against John’s.

‘I really liked the song.’ Paul said softly. John didn’t open his eyes.

‘What song?’ He asked as he rubbed himself against Paul’s hands and forehead a like a young kitten, wanting to be petted by its new owners. Paul chuckled.

‘The one on the back of that letter you wrote me.’ He answered as he let his fingers run through John’s hair. John practically purred contently at the attention.

‘Oh, that one.’ He replied. Paul nodded and leaned in, playing a sweet kiss on John’s nose. John opened his eyes with a dreamy smile as Paul pulled away again.

‘Yes, that one.’ He replied with a grin.

‘Well, good thing I wrote it for you then.’ John answered. Paul chuckled and kissed him again. John held Paul a little tighter and pressed him against him.

‘I know this might sound cheesy, but I’ve been wanting this for so long now.’ Paul nearly whispered as he broke the kiss and buried his face in the crook of John’s neck. John wrapped his arms around Paul and caressed his back as he kisses his ear.

‘I know…’ He whispered.

‘Don’t leave me.’ Paul requested more as an question than an order.

‘I won’t.’ John replied and kissed his hair, ‘I won’t.’

‘Good… Then I won’t either.’ Paul said as moved his lips back on John’s again and pulled him fully against him, grabbing his shirt and holding him tightly as he slowly let himself fall back on the couch, taking John with him. He could feel John smile against his lips. It was the most wonderful feeling he had ever experienced in his life until now.

            John had no idea how it had gotten to this. All he had ever done, all his memories, all the accords he knew, all the songs he had memorized, all the people he had every met and all of his vocabulary was vanished from his brain. All he could think about was Paul’s lips against his and his body heath against his skin. It was everything he had ever wanted, everything he had ever dreamed of, and yet he had no words to describe it. He could hardly believe it that it were indeed Paul’s lips against his, Paul’s arms wrapped around him, Paul’s fingers in his hair and Paul’s body pressed against his as they continued to kiss on the couch. And he could hardly believe it that it was Paul who was moaning against his lips and saying his name so closely into his ear. The feeling he felt now, as he laid down on top of Paul on the couch, was nothing like he had ever experienced. It felt so different than when he did stuff like this with Stuart or anyone else. It was so much more meaningful, more wanted, more meant, more tender, more dazzling and he felt so much closer, so much more connected with Paul than he had ever felt with anyone and all they did was kissing. Just simple kissing. No groping hands, no moving tongues, no rapid and animalistic groans… Just warmth, security and… love somewhat. John broke the kiss and looked down at his new found lover. Paul looked  confused up at him. He blushed as he saw John looking at him, watching him with such an intense glare that it nearly made him self-conscious. John smiled down as he noticed it.

‘What?’ Paul asked with a little giggle. John shook his head.

‘Nothing… Just…’ he started. He wanted to tell Paul how beautiful he looked like this, how much he had wanted this, how many nights he hadn’t slept and spend wondering about this. How much he loved him… he opened his mouth to say something. He looked Paul over, his lovely face with his beautiful eyes, his perfectly shaped eyebrows and his chubby cheeks. His beautiful delicate features and his perfect smile. John closed his mouth again as he moved the back of his hand over Paul’s reddened, flushed cheek.

‘Just what?’ Paul asked again, as he let his hands slide from John’s hair and moved his to John’s upper arms and held them, slightly massaging him. John shook his head with a charming smile.

‘Nothing. I’m just so happy you’re here.’ He said, instead of what he really wanted to say. But Paul smiled, anyway. And John thought it was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

‘Me too.’ Paul answered. John’s lips parted as he watched Paul’s plump lips move. He licked them and looked up at Paul one last time before he let his eyes fall close and pressed his lips back against Paul’s. He moved a hand up over Paul’s body to his neck, letting his fingers explore a bit, as he continued to kiss him, adding more and more passion with every move. Paul hummed as John began to caress the back of his neck and he wrapped his arms around John’s waist, wanting him as close as possible. He moved a leg over John’s and moved his hips up, making their crotches rub against each other. John groaned and gently parted his lips. He let his tongue slide out and onto Paul’s lips, teasing them, asking Paul to open up for him. Paul was happy to oblige and parted them as he grabbed John’s shirt tightly and moved his leg up and down John’s. He felt John’s rubbery, wet tongue slide into his mouth and invade him. He could feel how John moved his tongue around in his more than welcoming mouth, exploring its new surrounding and marking it as its own. Paul could taste John in his mouth and that and the feeling of John’s tongue rubbing against his own made him want more and more. He rolled his hips up and groaned as he let his tongue massage John’s. He wrapped both his legs around the man above him and held him against him. He could feel John was reacting to it as badly as he was. With every roll of his hips, John’s moans became more vocal and his crotch harder, until he began to meet his thrust and dominantly pinned him down onto the couch. Paul moaned into John’s mouth and began to suck his tongue, asking for more as he moved a hand back into John’s auburn hair and pulled. He had been dreaming of this for so long, he was not going to miss out on this chance. He had to have John as close as was physically possible. He needed to feel him against him. He needed John to wrap his arms around him and hold him close too. He needed John to want him just as much as he wanted him. He needed John to take control and overpower him. He needed John… He pulled harder at the short realisation and their kiss broke as John’s thrusts became more violent, more demanding and more lustful. Paul was panting heavily as John thrusted his hips against his and started to kiss and suck on his neck, his hands caressing Paul’s warm body, through his clothing.

‘Ah fuck… John…’ Paul panted before biting down his lip to prevent himself from crying out. John nodded and started to nibble Paul’s flesh as he pinned his hips further down into the couch, with one hand.

‘John… Fuck, I’m…’ Paul breathed between moans and gasps, ‘You’re about to… you’re… ah… make my pants… hmm… dirty…’ Paul blushed heavily as he said that. He could not believe he was so close by only this for such a short period of time. He was relieved to hear John pant almost the same.

‘Fuck… I know… God, Macca… So close…. Ahh…’ He panted. Paul bit his lip and let his eyes fall close as John thrusted even harder into him. His movement became more shaky and shorter and faster. Paul had trouble breathing, so good as it felt. He was so close. He could explode and soil his jeans any moment now. He opened his eyes as he noticed John’s lips had removed themselves from his neck. He looked up straight into John’s almond shaped eyes. He grabbed his shoulder with one hand and caressed John’s hair and face with the fingertips of the other, as he continued to move with him. John held onto him tightly as he moved so roughly that it made the couch move a little with them, squeaking slightly.

‘Kiss me… ahh John… Please… Kiss me.’ Paul pleaded as he let his fingertips trace John’s red lips. John felt his cock twitch as he heard Paul say that. His lips parted and he leaned in, placing his lips against Paul’s. Paul immediately gripped John tighter and held him close against him, lips pressing against each other. He bit on John’s bottom lip, pulled and cried out as he felt himself nearly peaking.

‘Come with me, Macca.’ John spoke. Paul nodded and pressed his lips back against John, kissing him repeatedly. John thrusted a couple of times more before his grip tightened and his body shook. Paul knew he was going to come. He pulled John’s hair and rolled his hips up hard enough to take John over the edge. Paul could feel John spasm as he came in his trousers against him, groaning loudly as he did so. The groaning and spasming was enough for Paul to come as well, soiling his own jeans. He cried out John’s name as he came, loudly and hoarse, with one last thrust up.

            John let himself fall down on top of Paul, exhausted and completely spend. He could not believe how tired he was from just a little dry humping. And fully-clothed as well. He let his eyes fall close and he panted heavily as he tried to catch his breath. His head moved up and down with Paul’s chest, raising whenever the younger man took a breath, lowering when he exhaled again. John smiled and let his finger caress Paul’s chest, ruffling up his shirt even more than it already was. He heard Paul giggle above him. He looked up at him.

‘You’re tickling me.’ Paul said while he continued to giggle. John grinned.

‘I never knew you were so ticklish, Macca.’ He said. Paul chuckled and tried to push John’s hand away from his chest.

‘Well…  Now you know. Stop it, John.’ Paul said. John removed his hand and placed them both on either side of Paul’s body, lifting himself up. Paul stopped giggling, but the smile stayed on his still flushed and beautiful face. John gently leaned down and placed a soft kiss on top of Paul’s lip. Paul hummed at the contact.

            A sudden “John, I’m home!” caused both the boys to sit up and stare at each other with big eyes. John was the first to move. He quickly took Paul’s head between his hand and kissed him one more time hastily before he jumped off the couch. Paul followed him with his eyes, not knowing what to do himself until John handed him a box with tissues. Paul took it from him with a slight blush on his cheeks and stood up. John quickly tried to clean himself and his jeans as best as he could before straightening up his clothes. Paul quickly followed his lead and did the same as John threw the tissues and the box through the window into the garden. Paul’s eyes widened and he stared at his mate, silently asking why he threw it over there. John just shrugged and brushed his fingers through his hair,  making himself a tad more presentable. John’s fingers weren’t even out of his hair yet before Mimi came in through the door.

‘John, take your hand out of your hair. You’re ruining it. Oh, hello Paul.’ She said. John made a face at her and moved his hands through his hair about five more times. His aunt shook her head disapprovingly.

‘Hello, Mrs Smith.’ Paul greeted her with a smile. He was surprised by how steady his voice sounded even though only one minute earlier he had still been lying with John on the couch and two minutes earlier he had creamed his pants while panting John’s name. The smile probably was still from what had happened two minutes ago, but it came in handy now. Mimi smiled back at him.

‘Are you staying for dinner, Paul?’ She asked him. Paul shook his head no.

‘No, thank you. My dad is counting on me.’ He said. She nodded.

‘Oh, alright then. Well,’ She turned to John, ‘I’m going to start dinner. You and Paul can do whatever you were up too and let me be. I’ll call you for dinner.’

‘Yeah, sure. Come Paul.’ John said as he started to talk towards the door. Paul followed him out.

‘Oh, and please leave  those guitars alone. I want to listen to some real music for a change, alright.’ Aunt Mimi called after them.

‘Rock ‘n’ Roll _is_ real- oh, forget it. Whatever, Mimi.’ John answered, slightly annoyed by the fact that she had insulted his music taste for the hundredth time that week and by the fact he and Paul weren’t kissing each other blind on that damn couch anymore. He wondered why they hadn’t been bloody naked, so they had left some stains behind. John grinned to himself as he thought about what his aunt’s reactions to that would have been. 


	5. Chapter 5

Paul looked up at the older man sitting on top of him, on his hips, holding him down onto the dirty ground. His hair ruffled up, making it hang down slightly. His lips red and wet, corner curled up in the cheeky grin that Paul loved so much. His shirt ruffled and jacket off. His dark brown, almond shaped eyes were on him, studying him. Moving over his entire body, searching for that one spot that he would ravish first. He was breathing heavily and he let his fingers caress Paul’s chest, pulling lightly at the buttons on his shirt, like he was seeing how much strength he needed to undo them. Paul squirmed a little under John’s heavy body and let his eyes flutter close as John’s finger ran past his left nipple a little rougher than before. He hummed contently as John did the same movement again and at the same time the first button of his shirt popped loose.

            Oh, he had wanted this for so long. So fucking long, and now it was happening. And out in the open as well. John had popped up at his doorstep without any notice, surprising him, and had taken him to Strawberry Fields. It was a warm autumn evening and Paul had been more than happy to go with John to smoke and mess around. And so here they are, lying next to the tree they had just been sitting against, surrounded by bushes that would hide them if someone for some surprising and strange reason would walk past.

            Paul knew his dad was going to kill him when he got home. He had just taken him shopping that day and had ordered his son to put on his nice new clothes. Paul hadn’t been clever enough to change before leaving the house. And now his new slacks, lovely pale brown ones that his dad had forced on him, not that Paul really cared, he secretly rather liked him, were already filthy with dirt and wet by the grass. Paul hoped for his life it didn’t have any grass stains. His new light blue shirt wasn’t doing very well, either. Paul felt the damp back of his shirt sticking to him. He was glad he was lying on his back again, then he didn’t have to be reminded of it so much. Worrying about his dad, that he would do later. Now all he wanted to think about was the gorgeous man, sitting on his lap as he began to expose more and more of Paul’s fair, pale skin.

            ‘So beautiful…’ Paul heard someone mutter and he had been sure it had been him if John hadn’t leaned in and placed his soft, thin lips back onto Paul’s and had repeated it against them. Paul’s eyes fluttered close and Paul moved his hand’s from John’s waist and thigh into John’s soft, auburn hair that shined so beautifully in the dying sunset. He let his fingers slide through the still slightly greasy hair, loving the feeling. He could lay like this forever, outside, on the grass with John… Forever. Paul sighed and nuzzled his face against the side of John’s face, sniffing his hair, as John moved his lips to Paul’s ear and started to nibble at the earlobe.

‘You really think I’m beautiful?’ Paul breathed into John’s ear. He was slightly blushing as he asked it and was glad John couldn’t see that from where his lips were.

‘Paul, how could anyone think you’re not?’ John asked as he kissed up and down the shell of Paul’s ear, and unbuttoned another one of Paul’s buttons. Paul felt his breath hitch as he heard the plopping sound.

            Paul never even thought that John could have such an effect on him. John merely unbuttoning his shirt while kissing him was enough to make his dick stand fully erect in his trousers. And it wasn’t like they hadn’t done anything yet. They had wanked off together, wanked each other off, humped each other like crazy the last two weeks. John had even gotten him out of class at some points with some lousy excuse just to hump him dry in the toilets because he couldn’t wait another half hour, when Paul would have been done. Not that Paul complained. He rather enjoyed it. But the fact that John could still nearly make him cream his jeans by just saying that he was going to grind him into the wall until he saw stars and didn’t remember his own name was… interesting to say the least.

            ‘Stuart doesn’t.’ Paul heard himself say. He wanted to slap himself so hard that even John would forget what he had just said. Though, that was not possible. Instead Paul held his breath as he waited for John to respond. He felt John tense against him. His fingers stopped moving and his lips stopped kissing. John didn’t move and Paul feared the worst. The grip he had on John tightened, afraid that John would move away.

‘He’s an idiot.’ John finally spoke, his voice unsteady and ruff, like he wasn’t so sure himself, and pressed his lips against the spot just behind Paul’s ear that he knew would make Paul drop the subject. Paul groaned at the feeling of John’s open mouth kisses, with sometimes a little nibble with his teeth, on his skin. He was glad John hadn’t moved away. Now he finally had him, after all those years, it was not the idea to lose him again because of his stupid mouth. And so he let one hand continue playing with John’s hair as the other moved lower and lower over John’s shoulder to his back, his side and finally Paul let his hand rest on the curve of John’s ass. He felt John grin against his right ear.

 

            Paul knew something was wrong. He just knew it. It was a strange nagging feeling inside his chest. The same feeling gave him chills at night. When he was alone thinking about it, but also when he lay together with John in a tiny single bed. John talked in his sleep, or muttered rather. Most of what he said sounded like gibberish to Paul, but lately John’s little mumbles had become more and more clear and understandable. Well, he heard what he said. It still didn’t make much sense to him, though. But he did know something was up. And he had the feeling that it was bad. It had been four days since Paul had let that little comment on Stuart slip. He hadn’t meant to. It was still unsure how John would react when the topic came to Stuart. But it had happened and since then John had started to act more and more odd. He was distant, mean, selfish, cold and nervous. Paul didn’t liked that side of his boyfriend. Not that he acted like that all the time, but it was there. And far more often than Paul would have liked.

            Paul eyed John from the corner of his eye. He was sitting silently, sketching in his notebook. Eyes narrowed and fixed on the page. Pencil held loosely in his hand as he moved it smoothly over the page. A scratchy sound filled Paul’s ears. He sighed.

‘You do know you’ve got that test next Tuesday?’ Paul said as he looked back into his math book. They had been sitting in John’s room for over an hour now, and all John had done was sketching on his bed while Paul had been doing homework at John’s desk. Paul knew John didn’t care much for school, but that didn’t mean he just could leave it all. He had to do at least something.

‘Shut up, McCartney.’ John answered from the bed, not stopping for even a second.

‘But John,’ Paul said as he turned to his boyfriend, ‘You have to learn!’ He saw John lift his eyes to him, studying him closely.

‘Forget it, Paul. Now go back to work so I can continue.’ He said. Paul bit his tongue. There was just something in John’s voice that was not right. He sounded cold. Much colder than he normally sounded. And even a bit annoyed.

            Paul decided he didn’t care and stood up. He quickly moved over to John.

‘What are you sketching, anyway?’ He asked. He saw John grin, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he looked over John’s shoulder into his sketchbook. He stopped breathing for a second as he saw it.

‘It’s not yet finished.’ John said softly as he moved a little so Paul could see it more clearly. Paul gaped at John. The drawing was him. Studying. Him. Paul looked from the paper to John and back again. It looked like John had put some great effort behind it.

‘You like it?’  John asked. Paul nodded, his mouth open and eyes wide. John chuckled cutely at Paul’s reaction. Paul felt himself warm up as he heard the chuckle.

‘It’s lovely. You drew this just now?’ Paul couldn’t believe John could make something like that in only one hour. The lines were thoughtfully shaped and had just the right thickness. John had even already spend time on colouring it in. In black, white and all kinds of grey shades, but it only looked more lovely. Paul wrapped his arms around John and gave him a peck on his cheek.

‘I’m glad you do.’ John said before grabbed him tightly and pulled him onto the bed, on top of him. Paul shrieked in surprise as he felt himself being lifted and dropped on top of John with a silent thud. John laughed.

‘Shush, or Mimi will hear ya!’ He said. Paul giggled and curled up against John, his head on John’s chest, one hand on John’s hip and the other next to his head, caressing him. He looked up at John with a smile.

‘But I don’t like to be silent…’ he said with a pout. John laughed.

‘No, I’ve noticed that.’ He joked. Paul blushed and gave John a gentle push. John smiled and blew him a kiss. Paul’s lips curled up into a sweet, playful and loving smile. His eyes shined and his cheeks puffed, making him look like a happy chipmunk.

‘What?’ John asked. Paul shrugged as he lifted his head from John’s chest and moved up to kiss him. John smiled into the kiss and cupped Paul’s cheek in his hand, caressing the reddish skin with this thumb. Paul moved his hand from John’s hip and moved it to John’s thigh, lifting it up and wrapping it around his legs. John moaned approvingly against Paul’s lips and opened his mouth. Paul opened his as well as he also lifted the other and wrapped that around himself too, John’s ankles at the back of his knee. John felt himself get hot as he continued to stroke Paul’s cheek as he kissed him passionately, tongues swirling together, lips massaging, teeth nibbling and mouths sucking.

            He groaned as Paul began to grind his hips against him, making him move on the bed. He grabbed Paul’s shoulder and pulled him closer against him, closing the slight gab between their bodies. Paul hummed into John’s open mouth and thrusted again as he cocked his head to deepen the kiss. He could feel John encouraging him by moving his hips with him, getting a better grip and smoother slide.

            Paul felt John’s cock harden against his already hard own. At first he had been embarrassed about getting hard so quickly. But that had soon faded when he realised that John was quicker brought to his climax than him. And John sweat more. And with that last, Paul had no problem what so ever. And John didn’t seem to have any problem with his quick erections either. Paul had seen John looking. Not that John knew that he knew that he was staring at his crotch with fewer subtlety than was needed most of the time. George thought it was pretty funny, though.

            Paul smiled against John’s lips and his thrust became more rapid as he thought about the time John had practically had been drooling when he had noticed his hard-on and had started to stroke himself under the table at dinner, making John gasp and their kiss broke. Paul’s lips immediately moved to John’s throat that now lay within reach.

‘Oh, I love it when you do that…’ John breathed, his voice hoarse, ruff and extremely sexy. Paul licked at John’s silky skin and moved his lips lower and lower.

‘Oh, but you’re going to love this even more.’ Paul whispered sexily back as he pushed himself up a little. John groaned as Paul moved his hand over his erection to his belt and started to unbuckle it. Paul looked up at him. John’s eyes were on him, watching his every move, his lips slightly parted, showing just a little bit of white teeth. Paul smiled, moved his fingers to John’s zipper an dragged it down. He smiled even wider as he saw a light red shade form on John’s cheeks as he set him free. He took the shaft of John’s cock in his left hand and moved him out of his green boxers, stroking him as he did so. John let out a soft moan and bit his lip to keep silent. His eyes fluttered close as Paul gave him a squeeze and began to move his hand up and down, adding pressure at exactly the right times and places.

             ‘Watch me…’ Paul breathed, his voice husky. John shuddered as he felt Paul’s warm breath caressing his cock teasingly and opened his eyes. Paul licked his lips as their eyes locked, teasing him even more. John smiled down at him and leaned up, resting on his elbows to get a better view. Paul looked so fine and sexy as he laid there between his thighs, stroking his hard cock, smearing the precum around as he sniffed the musky smell.

‘Can you keep quiet?’ Paul asked, remembering that Mimi was right down stairs and that she would have an heard attack if she found out what her nephew and his “best friend” were doing right now. She probably hadn’t even know what the exact deal was with him and Stuart either. Paul waited for an answer. John nodded as he mimicked zipping his lips together so that nothing would come out. Paul grinned and winked at him before gently blowing hot air onto John’s, now leaking cock. John watched Paul closely, curious for what Paul had in his mind. Of course John had a couple of idea’s but he wasn’t sure. Paul did say that he had never done anything with a lad…

            John lifted a hand and caressed Paul’s cheek as Paul continued to stroke him. Paul flashed him one last wicked smile before he lowered his head, keeping his eyes on his boyfriend. Paul pursed his lips and gently kissed the tip of John’s dick, making his lips wet with his precum. John’s mouth fell open as he watched Paul, gently and sweetly placing little kisses onto his cock, like he was worshiping it. He took his time and continued to kiss him while his hands slowly worked him up and down, keeping a steady, but slow, rhythm. John slowly moved his hand up into Paul’s silky dark hair. He twisted it between his fingers, asking Paul to continue as Paul looked deep into his eyes and licks his lip, tasting John’s precum.

            Paul happily noticed that it wasn’t all that bad as he had expected. It was bitter and salty, but not at all unpleasant. He kisses the head again, before he let his tongue slip out and circle the head, tasting John more and more. There was something about the taste that made Paul want it more and more, but maybe that was just because it was _John’s_ taste, and no-one else’s. John let out a groan as Paul licked him in a teasing manner, making his cock twitch. The grip he had on Paul’s hair tightened as he gently pushed Paul’s head down a little.

‘Please, Macca…’ John asked as Paul licked the slit. Paul looked back up and grinned to himself. John’s eyes were closed and his head had fallen backwards. John pulled at his hair again, encouraging him.

‘Alright…’ Paul answered. His voice low and playful. He gave John one last lick before pursed his lips again and kissed the head, before letting it slowly slide into his hot, welcoming mouth. John groaned loudly and pushed his hips up slightly. Paul quickly held John’s hip with his hand and pushed him into the bed, making sure he wouldn’t thrust up and make him gag. John moaned softly as he felt his cock slide deeper and deeper past Paul’s plump lips. He couldn’t help himself. It felt so amazingly wonderful. It had totally been worthwhile, waiting until Paul would take the step to go further. It felt so much better than he had thought. The feeling of Paul’s lips, tightly wrapped around his shaft as he swirled his tongue around the head and softly sucked, giving just that little extra, was better than he had imagined it. Better than when Stuart had done it to him as well. John cursed himself for thinking about Stuart now. Stuart was over. It was Paul of whom he should be thinking now. He wasn’t lying between his thighs to make him think about that stupid, cheating knob-head.                                   

            No, definitely not… John thought as Paul sucked once hard on the tip, like he was drinking from a straw. And John couldn’t say he didn’t like it. He gripped at Paul’s dark hair locks and pulled as he groaned from deep in his throat. He could hear Paul chuckle and at that moment it was the most beautiful sound John had ever heard. Paul’s grip on his shaft tightened and he let John slide further into his mouth, gaging as the tip made his way to his throat, triggering his gag reflex. John watched Paul struggled for a bit, trying to get him all the way inside his throat, making Paul blush, until he gave up and basically spat him out.

             ‘Don’t stare at me like that.’ He said, his voice small, sweet and shy. John smiled widely and sat up. He took Paul’s head in his hands, his fingers in his hair, his thumbs caressing Paul’s cheeks and leaned in, placing a sweet, tender kiss on his lips. Paul sighed against his lips and John laid back down, taking Paul with him.

‘How could I not stare if you look so pretty when you do that?’ John asked as he broke the kiss and gently laid Paul down. He leaned over him and looked deep into Paul’s eyes as Paul opened them. The reddish blush on his cheeks, spread further and darker.

‘You’re cute when you blush.’ John said with a grin, making Paul’s blush get worse and worse. Paul playfully pushed him.

‘Stop it, Lennon.’ He said with a shy giggle. John smiled and kissed him again. Paul moaned against his soft lips and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer. He let his hands roam over John’s body, over his broad shoulders, his chest, his back, down to the curve of his ass and finally he moved a hand into the backside pocket of John’s trousers and gave him a squeeze. John groaned and let his tongue move over Paul’s lips, asking him to open up for him. Paul smiled as he parted his lips and John’s tongue quickly invaded his mouth, licking him everywhere. Paul moaned and squeezed again, but this time he felt something crisper under his groping fingers. He felt John tense up against him, his movements stopping briefly. Paul crooked his eyebrow and removed his hand, taking a bit of paper with him. John tried to continue kiss him, but Paul moved his head away.

‘What’s this?’ he asked as he looked at the bit of fowled paper in his hand. His eyes quickly shot to John and back to the paper again. John had gone slightly pale and he stared at the paper in Paul’s hand.

‘N-n-no-nothing…’ John stammered slightly, ‘probably one of Mimi’s ways to remember me to do stuff. Here give it to me.’ John said. Paul looked from the paper to John and bit the inside of his lips. That really was one of the worst excuses John had ever thought of.

‘You sure?’ He asked, hinting at it that he knew it wasn’t true. John swallowed thickly once before taking the note from his boyfriend and flashing him a smile.

‘Totally.’ He said and laid the note away onto his bedside table. Paul turned his head and looked at it. He wondered what it was. It had to be something important if John wouldn’t want him to know about it. Paul quickly went past his mental calendar, but couldn’t find any reason for why John would have anything planned for Paul as a surprise. That little note only made him more curious.

            He twitched as he felt John’s fingers on his chin, turning his head back to him with a smile. Paul smiled back and wrapped his arm back around his lover and pulled him back against him.

‘Okay, then…’ He said before kissing him. John smiled down at him and let him as he moved his own hands to Paul’s still trapped rock hard cock.

            Paul withered and mumbled nonsense that didn’t even sounds as English as John moved above him, sucking and nibbling at his neck as he moved smoothly and rocked their hips together, his hands sweetly caressing his boyfriend’s face and hair. John had been a total tease since Paul had found that note, and Paul was sure that he couldn’t bear it if John didn’t let him cum again.

‘You okay?’ John breathed heavily into Paul’s red ear. Paul tried to say something in the sense of “Feels so good…” but nothing more came out of his mouth than some unearthly words that didn’t sound either good or bad. Paul bit his lip, nodded quickly and dug his fingers into the back of John’s neck to show him he was more than okay. John giggled and began to rock even harder against him, digging him into the mattress, bringing them both closer and closer to their climax. Paul relaxed as he realised John was just a close as he was and had no plans of teasing him any longer.

            It didn’t take them long after that. John was close. Very close. He couldn’t say anything anymore. All that came out of his mouth were gasps, pants, moans and groans. His fingers had a tight grip on Paul and he hoped that he wasn’t hurting him. But John guessed he wasn’t, since Paul was holding him tighter than ever and was moaning into his ear.

            John hadn’t thought his plan through when he had decides to tease Paul until he was begging, praising and screaming. It hadn’t really worked. Paul wasn’t begging, he wasn’t praising and surely wasn’t screaming. He was muttering, whispering and moaning. And all John could understand was his name, but that was pretty much it. Also were Paul’s nails still digging into his flesh and it started to hurt slightly. Surprisingly it made his pleasure greater, but he knew that it would feeling like there had been a flaming knife in the back of his neck  when they had calmed down again. But at this point John was way too close to really think about that all.

             ‘Jesus, Paul…’ John managed to speak in a gasp. He was glad when Paul answered him, telling him that he wanted them to come together. And just the thought of Paul and him coming at the same time, their cum mixing between their sweaty bodies as they both cried out each other’s names like it was the only word they knew, was enough to make John’s body spasm against Paul’s, sending thrills through their bodies and making them both come and let John’s imaginary scene happen. The only thing that was different is that Paul had obviously been thinking at least a little and had clashed their lips together in order to muffle both their cries of pleasure so that John’s aunt wouldn’t be alarmed and come to check on him. John was glad he had.

            John’s muscles slowly relaxed as Paul wrapped his arms around his chest and massaged his back, their hips still moving together as none of them really wanted to stop. He sighed loudly and nuzzled his face in the crook of Paul’s neck and inhaled the musky scent of his sweat. Paul smiled and moved his nose into John’s auburn hair.

‘I can feel you smile, you know.’ John said, his voice slow, creamy and tired.

‘Sorry…’ Paul muttered as he sniffed at John’s hair, his smile not disappearing.

‘No. I like it when you smile.’ John answered, the tone of his voice a little stern. Paul chuckled into John’s hair and sighed. John kissed his skin sweetly and moved his head lower to Paul’s slightly exposed chest and continued to kiss him as Paul massaged his back and shoulders.

‘You’re a real tease sometimes, did you know?’ Paul asked as he stared up at the sealing, enjoying the heath of John’s body against him and the kisses on his chest.

‘So it seems…’ John replied as he laid his head and Paul’s chest and hugged him closely against him, his eyes closing and his breath slowing down. He listened to Paul’s heart beating inside his chest, the calm heartbeat slowly relaxing him.

            Paul mindlessly started playing with John’s hair as he watched him sleep. He looked so sweet and peaceful and calm when he was asleep. Like a child, tired out after a long day of playing, unknown to the pain life was still going to give him. Like he didn’t have a care in the world. Of course Paul knew that was not true, and when John would open his eyes again, he’d see the pain that still lay there deep within him, pushed away from the light, crawled away into the darkest of John’s heart to feed itself with the tears he shed and pain he felt whenever someone would leave him or whenever he felt unloved. The pain caused by his loved ones who had left him. When he was little and when he was older. Paul remembered the first time he had seen that pain for real, the first time John had allowed him to see that pain, vividly and he knew it was printed into his memory until the day he’d die. Since that day Paul had seen that pain in John’s eyes. Mostly when he thought no-one was watching him. Or when something happened that made him think about that pain. Paul knew that most people couldn’t see it. But he could. He could see it. And John knew. That’s why he let him watch him. He didn’t mind if Paul saw. Perhaps because John knew Paul would let him be, when John didn’t want to be reminded, or talk to him when John needed a shoulder to cry on, a pair of save arms to hold him and a sweet, smooth voice to tell him everything would be alright in the end, even when John thought he didn’t need it.

            Paul sighed and kissed the top of John’s head again, hoping he would stay asleep just a little longer, before he too let his eyes fall close and he slowly drifted off to sleep. His arms still wrapped around him.

            When Paul opened his eyes again, John had moved. He was lying next to him, holding his hand in his and pulling him closely against his back, making Paul spoon behind him. Paul moaning contently into John’s hair, before kissing the back of his ear. John moved a little against him, enjoying the warmth behind him. Paul chuckled and turned his head to the clock. 5 ‘o clock. They hadn’t been asleep for so long yet. Paul yawned once and moved away from John to stretch himself a little. John moved away from him as Paul sat up, taking his pillow and hugging it closely. Paul stroked John’s head once and smiled at how adorable he looked. John hummed and slapped Paul’s hand away, not wanting to be awoken.

            Then it came back to Paul. In a sudden flash. Paul quickly turned his head to John’s bedside table. He had totally forgotten about it, until then. Paul spotted the white, fumbled piece of paper within seconds. John had put it between two books so it wouldn’t be very visible. Paul looked one more time at John and bit his lip. Should he read it? John hadn’t wanted him to read it, so he really shouldn’t. But what if it had something to do with why John was acting so cold at times and tried to make him forget about stuff? Like the bit of paper. And he was very, _very_ curious what John wouldn’t want him to see… Paul took a deep breath before he swung his legs over the bed and snatched the paper from the bedside table. He quickly checked if John was still asleep before he unfolded it.

_John,_

_I miss you._

_Please answer this time. I’ve told you everything. Why would you need any more time? I can’t do without you, John. I really do miss you. Please come back to me. I’m begging you John. I think about you all the time. Please, John… At least answer me._

_Sweet kisses,_

_Stu_

Paul stared at the bit of paper. That had been the last thing he had expected. He thought John had said goodbye to Stuart. That it was over. Paul read it again. And again. It must have been new. John had worn another pair of jeans yesterday. Why would John let Stuart send him apology letters. It wasn’t like he would want him back, right? Paul bit his lip and reread the letter again. It seemed like John had answered him at least once, but not since. Maybe it had been from before John and him had gotten together? But then why didn’t John throw it away? Were there more? Paul was already standing before he knew so himself. He quickly put on his y-fronts and stumbled over to John’s desk, his legs still wobbly of the sleeping and sex. It didn’t take Paul long to find another.

 

_John,_

_Thank you so much for answering. You have no idea how thrilled I was. I screamed when I got it. A little. And no, I’m serious. I miss you, John. So much. I never thought it would be so hard not to be with you. You want me to give you a reason why we should start again? Well, to be honest… I don’t know. It just seems right, you know, you and me. Together. And is it true what I hear? Are you and Paul together? You can’t be serious. You need me, John. Paul won’t be enough, and you know it. He’s probably only wanking you, isn’t he? Can’t even give proper head. I’m sorry John, but you know as well as I do that wanking won’t be enough. You don’t like him that much that that won’t be a problem. I know you don’t. I could satisfy you. Both mentally as physically. And you know it. You remember it. I know you do._

_Hopefully soon yours,_

_Stuart_

Paul’s cheeks flushed as he read it. He didn’t feel good. He should have known John and Stuart had done way more than what they had done. But John had never mentioned it, had he? Paul swallowed thickly.

_Sorry, I shouldn’t have said something like that. I’ll bet he’s great._

_x Stu_

Paul could _feel_ the sarcasm, and he wondered briefly if John had too.

 

_John,_

_I saw you and Paul today. I guess he’s pretty hung up about you, isn’t he? He didn’t even see me. Poor thing. He reminds me of myself a little, when I had my first crush. It was over within a week. It reminds me a little of the way you sometimes talk and everything about Brigitte Bardot or Elvis. Plain admiration. It’s not like we had, John. I don’t care if you don’t answer. I will carry on writing, because I know you two won’t last and I know you still have feelings for me. Don’t you deny it. Oh, and Jen send you her love. She says it was entirely her fault and you shouldn’t blame me. I still have the letter, if you want to read it… Don’t answer if you don’t want to. I don’t care. I’ll continue writing either way._

_With love,_

_Stu_

_John,_

_Please forgive me. This whole thing is driving me mad. Do you have any idea how many sketchbooks I’ve filled with pictures of you and me this week. THREE!_

_Stu._

_John,_

_I want you. I want you to hold me. Please. Come to my house tonight. About ten. If your lucky, I won’t mind. You know what I’m talking about. I know you want it._

_Stu._

‘It’s *You’re. Not *your*.’ Paul muttered angrily to the piece of paper before fumbling it into a little ball and squeezing it tightly in his fist. 

* * *

 

John woke up to the sound of his aunt shouting at him from downstairs, and John immediately felt something was wrong. Whether it was the fact that Paul was gone or for the fact that nearly all the letters Stuart had written him were lying open on his desk, John wasn’t sure. It probably was both. John groaned and literally rolled out of bed. He heard Mimi shouting, but his mind couldn’t register the words. All that ran through his mind had to do with Paul, Stuart and the letters. He cursed to himself not having just thrown the damn letters away like he first wanted as he crawled over to his desk, dragging himself over the ground, not wanting to stand up.

            Paul strolled silently down the street. He felt bad about leaving without saying goodbye, but he knew he would tell John he knew about the letters when John asked him if he was okay. And Paul was positive John would ask him that. He couldn’t deal with that just yet. He had to think first. Something was wrong and he couldn’t afford to jump into conclusions straight away. Because if he did, it would ruin everything. And the worst things was that John would think he didn’t trust him. Paul wanted to be able to trust John. He really wanted to. But now he wasn’t sure if he did. And that was the worst. Paul angrily kicked a rock away. Angry at Stuart for not leaving John and him alone. Angry at John for letting Stuart send him love letters and mad at himself for not thrusting his boyfriend.

            Paul didn’t know what to do. What could he do? Tell John? Paul chuckled to himself as he thought that. That would end well, he thought sarcastically. He was sitting on his one bed, staring out of the window as he smoked a ciggy. It had started to rain. Not that that was particular, or anything. This was England… No. Paul rather liked the rain. Unlike many people. It allowed him to think and relax. It was probably the reason why he didn’t know what to do about Stuart. He was too mellow.

            Paul took another drag. He wondered briefly what John was doing now. He hadn’t called yet. Paul didn’t know if that was odd. He had never left without at least saying so or hinting at it. He hadn’t a clue what went on in John’s head. Suddenly Paul raised to his feet and moved a hand over his mouth. The letters. Had he put them back? Paul wasn’t sure. He took a deep breath and walked to his window. Of course I had, Paul thought. He bit his lip and tried to think. He had seen them, lying there on the desk after he had read them. After that he had looked around for more but hadn’t been able to find any. And then he… left. SHIT! Paul thought and let himself fall down onto his knees. John knew. Probably. Most likely. Definitely. Fuck. Why had he been so stupid? How could he have left them there? Open on the desk. Paul grabbed his hair and pulled hard as he groaned. Stuart always ruined everything!

            Paul walked around his room in circles. Ciggy held tightly in between his fingers, nearly crumbling them. He had smoked six fags in a row and it hadn’t helped one bit to calm his nerves. And the rain falling down on his window, had only started to annoy him. All the ran thought his mind was “John knows! John knows! John knows!”. He couldn’t think anymore. He tried to think about what John would do. He couldn’t. He tried to think about what Stuart would do. He couldn’t. He tried to think of a way to get himself out of this fucked up situation. He couldn’t. He tried to think of someone who could help him. Just one person came to mind. But George was gone. He and family were visiting his grandparents this weekend. They wouldn’t be back till Sunday evening. Late, probably. Far too late to pop by for help, anyways. Paul looked down at his hand in surprise as he suddenly felt his fingers touch. He had broken his ciggie in two. Paul cursed and stamped on his ciggy, putting it out, not caring about the cleanness of the floor, before moving over to his desk and getting a new one. It was the last in his last package. The little fact made him curse again.

            Paul stayed upstairs for the rest of the afternoon and evening. Mostly because he had no idea what to do and didn’t want to do anything. His brother had brought him dinner. He had asked him what was wrong, but Paul hadn’t said a word except “thank you”. The empty plate now laid on his desk, next to a lot of thorn up pieces of paper. He had tried to write letters. First to John, but that didn’t work out. Then he tried Stuart but nothing else went on the paper but “Fuck off, you slimy ponce”. Probably not a very good one to send, though he would have loved to see the look on the prat’s face as he would read it.

            Paul shot up as he heard the doorbell ring. Silently he hoped it was John. He quickly stood up from his bed and stumbled over to the door. His legs were a little wobbly since he had been lying on his bed for the most time of the day. Paul rested his ear against the door and tried to hear who it was. His father opened the door. Paul could hear that without any difficulty. The other voice was something different. He recognized it, but he couldn’t remember to whom it belonged. He pressed a little closer. He could hear them talk, but he couldn’t exactly hear what words they said. He listened closely, even held his breath, but he couldn’t make out anything  and the voice stayed only slightly familiar.

              ‘Paul! There’s someone at the door for you!’ Paul suddenly heard his father yell. Paul sighed, he knew it wasn’t John. He would have recognized the voice. But he was kind of curious. He laid his hand on the doorknob and turned it. He already heard footsteps coming up the stairs. His father had probably told the person to go up, since he hadn’t answered or left his room ever since he got home. Paul took a deep breath, suddenly afraid that John had told Stuart that he knew about the letters and that Stuart had decided to pay him a little visit. A whole lot of tension fell from his shoulders as he saw who it was. He was so glad it wasn’t Stuart.

            ‘Hey, Paul.’ The older lad said as he walked over to him. Paul raised a hand to greet him. Ringo smiled shyly. Paul stepped aside to let him in. Paul wondered what he was doing here. They didn’t really talk and certainly weren’t friends. He only saw him when he was over at George’s and he was there as well. Or when they would go out, all four of them, but then he mostly stayed with John and Ringo mostly with George. He had never really talked to the man alone. And he certainly had never showed up at his doorstep. Paul felt his hands itch with curiosity.

             ‘Nice room.’ Ringo said as he took off his coat and threw it on the bed.

‘Thanks.’ Paul answered. There was a bit of an awkward tension hanging around.

‘Err, what are you doing here?’ Paul asked as he let himself fall onto his bed with a sigh. Ringo looked a bit taken aback by the somewhat rude question.

‘George called me.’ He said. His voice sounded slightly hurt. Paul didn’t care enough to bother with apologizing. Or acting nicer.

‘Did he now? So, what does that have to do with me, eh?’ Paul asked as he folded his arms together. Ringo did the same, mimicking Paul’s behaviour. It was more like a joke than an insult, but Paul couldn’t help but feel made fun of.

‘I thought you might like to hear that he got you guys a gig again. It’s weird. I already went to John, but he didn’t seem that crazy about either. Shame you guys don’t care about the band that much after all.’ He said.

‘I _care_!’ Paul said as he quickly sat up, his eyes wide, ‘What kind of gig?’

‘Some weird club. George met someone who was in need for a band on a Saturday night. Yes, Saturday over a week. Good day, Saturday, don’t you agree?’ Ringo gave him a happy smile. Paul couldn’t help but smiling as well.

             They had a gig! Again! They hadn’t had a gig since John had gotten like he had. They even cancelled a few. Paul had thought it was over for their little band. Apparently he had been wrong.

‘You’re kidding, right?’ Paul asked to check. Ringo shook his head.

‘Nope. You got a gig. Saturday over a week.’ He repeated. Paul smiled broadly and little shriek of happiness came past his lips. Ringo chuckled. Paul really was a funny, odd lad.

‘Could you pass it on to John next time you get together, which is probably faster than I would see him. Seeing you guys are going out and all.’ Ringo continued. Paul’s heart sank down his chest as he heard John’s name.

‘How do you know?’ He asked in a tight voice. Ringo chuckled again and sat down next to him. Paul didn’t know if he liked the fact that Ringo chuckled that often. But he had to admit that he rather had George going out with a happy guy that chuckled a lot than some stuck-up twat who didn’t even know what smiling even was. Let alone chuckling.

‘George told me. Relax. No-one else knows.’ He said. Paul sighed and nodded. Then he frowned.

‘Wait. I thought you said you already told him.’ He said. Ringo shook his head.

‘I knocked, but he didn’t answer. Probably out or something.’ He said. Paul nodded again and bit his lip. He really didn’t want to go over to John’s already. He had to figure this whole situation out first.

‘Can’t you go?’ he asked as he turned his head to Ringo. Ringo looked confused.

‘Why?’ He asked. Paul let his hand run through his hair. Ringo reached inside his pocket and got out a package of smokes and a lighter. He handed one to Paul.

‘Thanks.’ Paul muttered as he lit it. Ringo took the lighter back and did the same to his. Paul felt his body finally relax as the smoke entered his lungs.

‘You guys had a fight?’ Ringo asked as he put his burning ciggy between his lips. Paul let the smoke lazily escape from between his nearly closed lips and shrugged.

‘I don’t know. Not really. I guess. It’s just not that much fun when you find out your boyfriend writes letters to his ex-boyfriend who obviously wants him back.’ He answered. Ringo didn’t know what to say.

‘I don’t even know what the deal is, you know. Does he feel the same way? Is he answering back? Are they meeting? Is he planning on leaving me? I just don’t know!’ Paul said and took another drag.

‘He’s writing letters with that Stuart?’  Ringo asked, just to make sure he had understood it properly. Paul nodded and looked down at the ground. He wasn’t surprised the older man knew. George had probably told him pretty much everything.

‘Do you trust him?’ Ringo leaned back against the wall. Paul shrugged.

‘If I did, I wouldn’t have this problem, would I?’ Paul asked with a sad chuckle.

‘Why not?’ Ringo asked. Paul didn’t answer. Ringo leaned a little closer into his direction and crossed his legs on the bed.

‘Paul?’ he asked carefully.

‘I don’t know! He’s John! And the other is Stuart! They were together for so long! I don’t know anymore! John never talked about him again and I thought he was alright but he clearly isn’t since he’s writing with him! And Stuart is the one I really don’t trust. John is just too sweet at some points for his own good sometimes. Especially when he’s crazy about someone. I don’t know what’s going on in that mind of his.’ Paul said. His voice sounded tired and a little scared. Ringo laid a hand on his shoulder, but Paul shrugged it off.

‘Why does this all have to be so hard?’ He asked as he took his head in his hands.

             It stayed quiet in the room for some time. Paul felt stupid for telling Ringo. He didn’t even know the man! Well, not really, anyway. Surely he wouldn’t have a clue of what to do. He didn’t even have one, so what were the odds of someone who had only heard about it from someone else, having one. He had probably also made him feel uncomfortable. It must be weird if you just come over to share a bit of good news and get talked to about boyfriend-problems between him and another lad that you barely knew. Paul chuckled at the thought.

             ‘What?’ Ringo asked. His voice sounded a little unsure. Paul shrugged and sat back against the wall next to him.

‘Nothing. I’m just being stupid. Telling you all this, I mean. You couldn’t possibly help me. You know us through George, but apart from that…’ Paul laughed softly and shook his head. Ringo smiled too.

‘Well, I can’t help you with that part, no.’ He said, ‘But…’ Paul turned his head to him with curiosity. He had no idea how this man could possibly help him. But any help was wanted and more than welcome. He looked Ringo up and down. The man was little, and looked rather like a child that tried to play the bad knight in one of his make-believe adventure games. His eyes were a very bright blue and sparkled as he looked at him. Paul could see what George saw in him. Though, Ringo wasn’t really his type, Paul couldn’t deny the man was quite good-looking. In his own way. Even the big hooter of a nose somehow flattered him. He seemed like a guy who could know a couple of things about dealing with relationships.

‘But?’ Paul repeated him. Ringo shrugged.

‘Well, I don’t know what Stuart had written but there must have been something in those letters that he thought John wouldn’t like about you. Something that could make John leave you for him. At least, that’s what I would do if I wanted my old now-taken-boyfriend back. ‘ He explained. Paul thought about that. A few things came to mind and briefly he wondered if John would leave him for that. Stuart did know him very well. He knew what John wanted in a relationship, since he had no trouble keeping it over the last two years. Paul bit his lip.

‘Can you think of anything? I might be able to help. You never know.’ Ringo pushed. Hell yes. Paul could think of tons of things. But what would be easy enough to fix and wouldn’t change who he was? What could make John stay with him? Though, Paul did not know the answers to those questions, there was something that kept running through his mind. He eyed Ringo carefully from the corner of his eye. This was a little personal, so he had to be sure he could trust him. The man sat silently, waiting for Paul to answer him. He didn’t look hasty or interested in the information in any other way than to help him. Besides, he was going out with George. Surely he wouldn’t risk losing him for just a bit of fun? Paul took a deep breath and rubbed his forehead with his hand. Ringo sat up a little, hoping he had thought of something.

‘Yes?’ He asked. Paul bit his lip.

‘Well, there is something that keeps bothering me more than it probably should…’ Paul began carefully. Ringo moved a little closer.

‘And that is?’ he asked. Paul turned his head to him.

‘I know it’s stupid, but…’

‘Just tell me!’ Ringo urge him on. Paul took a deep breath, gathering courage before he finally spoke:

‘Sex.’

             ‘Fuck George! That’s grand!’ John yelled into the phone. The big news had cleared his mind from the bad thoughts immediately.

‘I know! But we shall have to practise before we can go up. It’s been awhile you know.’ George continued on the other end of the line.

‘Yeah, yeah. Sure whatever. But this is great! And he will be there?’ John asked again. He couldn’t believe it.

‘He said so, yes. It’s still a little hard to believe but he told me he would be there, so…  There might be a little chance that we…’ George spoke, but John cut him off.

‘DON’T! say it.’ He warned. It stayed quiet at the other end for a while. It seemed even longer in John’s mind and he began to think that the news had finally really reached his brain and he had fainted as he realised what big of a deal this was.

‘Why?’ George’s voice suddenly came. John felt slightly disappointed to know George hadn’t passed out.

‘Why?! Because it’s bad luck, that’s why!’ John answered his younger friend as if he had just asked the most stupid question that he could have asked.

‘John, surely you don’t believe in that kind of crap!’ The reply came with a chuckle.

‘George, sweetie. For once, don’t be so stupid. Just picture yourself. NO! Picture yourself. Just do it!’ John said. His voice quick and high.

‘Picture myself? John, we do have mirrors here, thank you.’

‘No, you git! Picture yourself on that stage in two weeks…’

‘It’s hardly a stage…’ George muttered.

‘Playing your guitar when suddenly… BAM! A lamp falls down, smashing your pretty little head into a little pile of bony crap. All because you said it!’ John continued. George laughed at the other end of the line.

‘And then we’ll never be famous because you got your head smashed in! Do you have any idea how much pain that would cause me?’ John asked.

‘ _You_? How much pain it caused _you?_ Are you stupid? My bloody head would be smashed in and you’re complaining about your pain! Aren’t I glad that I have you as a friend.’ George said. He was still chuckling. John grinned too.

‘Indeed. Very lucky. So, don’t say it or I’ll make sure that lamp will drop on you!’

‘Sure John. I won’t say it. But you will.’ George answered. John frowned.

‘Why?’ He asked.

‘Because you shall have to tell your dearest Paulie.’ The answer came in a mocking tone, unaware of what was going on back in Liverpool, and John felt like he had just been thrown into a bucket of ice water, ice cubes and some kind of special piranha that could life in very cold water.

             ‘Sex?’ Ringo repeated. Paul blushed and silently hoped the floor under him would open and swallow him up, taking him away from the world. He cursed as the floor didn’t open up at his request. He slowly nodded as he avoided any eye contact with Ringo. Ringo sighed.

‘Paul, I can’t say that I’ve known you two long enough to say so, but I don’t really think John is that shallow, you know.’ He said. He talked slowly. It made Paul nervous.

‘I know, but…’ Paul spoke as he began to play with the hem of his shirt, ‘In nearly all of those letters Stuart had referred to something sexual. Whether it was between the two of them or me and John. And I never done anything with a lad before. I haven’t a clue what to do!’

‘But surely… What did he write for example then?’ Ringo asked. Paul’s cheeks flushed a bright red. He cleared his throat before answering, still not looking at the man.

‘He said that I was properly bad at doing anything. Couldn’t give proper head, would only jerk him off. You know the deal. The most terrible thing is that he is right.’ Paul spoke that last very softly. Partly hoping Ringo hadn’t heard.

‘What do you mean “right”? Did John say so?’ Ringo asked.

‘What? No! No, he’s way too sweet for that. But it’s true. All we did until today was well… that. And when I tried to… you know… I couldn’t. I probably was bad. I know I was. Gagging for most of the time, I bet. Probably couldn’t get more than the head in…’ Paul’s cheeks got redder and redder with every word. He couldn’t believe he was talking about this with someone. He and John didn’t even talk about it!

‘Okay. Well, I still think this is stupid, but if it really bothers you…’ Ringo started. Paul looked up hopefully, finally meeting his eyes. Ringo swallowed.

‘You could practise.’ He finished. Paul’s eyes widened.

* * *

 

‘Practise?’ Paul asked. Ringo nodded. Paul couldn’t believe it. Was he really suggesting him to cheat just so he could give his boyfriend a blow job? Did he even know why Stuart and John had broken up? George had told him, hadn’t he?

‘I won’t cheat.’ Paul spoke, ‘I couldn’t do that to John, you know. Especially not with the whole Stuart thing.’ Paul held his breath as he watched Ringo for an reaction. Ringo didn’t really react. He didn’t look surprised or curious. He didn’t even smile or anything. He just looked back at Paul.

‘I know. You don’t have to you know. It’s not that different from wanking, really.’ Ringo explained. His face twitched a little as he said that. Paul frowned. He really didn’t have a clue what Ringo was talking about. What could wanking do for his overactive gag reflexes? Pretty much nothing, right?

‘You don’t get it, do you?’ Ringo asked. Paul eyes focused on the man next to him. He obviously had been staring while he had been thinking it over. But even now he didn’t do anything. He just continued to stare, but now at Ringo. Ringo sighed and let a hand run through his hair. Paul saw he was uncomfortable. And he couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t something you did every day. Talking about sex with some guy you barely know.

‘Listen. It’s simple you ju-’ Suddenly Ringo fell quiet again. He let his eyes run up and down Paul’s body, like he was studying him. It made Paul a little self-conscious. He must look like a mess. He hadn’t even done anything to his looks before letting Ringo in his room. He hadn’t even straightened his hair. It must look like some puppy had been rolling around in it. Paul tried to keep himself from blushing or do anything that would indicate how he felt. Ringo knowing he didn’t feel comfortable as well, would only make things worse. And, though Paul didn’t like to admit it, he kind of needed the man’s help. He knew John wasn’t shallow and wouldn’t break up with him if he gave bad head, but still. It would be nice if John thought he was good.

            ‘Paul, do you actually know how gay sex works?’ Ringo asked slowly. Paul couldn’t help but blush at the question.

‘I er… I think I’ll be err… fine… I guess… with that part… yeah.’ Paul answered. Ringo let out a sigh of relieve and smiled.

‘Oh, great. For one second I thought I had to explain. Good.’ Ringo said. Paul only now noticed how beautifully Ringo’s eyes shined when he was happy or relieved. It made Paul smile back at him.

‘I just don’t see how I could practise while wanking without cheating.’ Paul spoke softly, still smiling slightly. Ringo nodded and moved a little closer.

‘You have no idea how relieved I am right now.’ He said.

‘I can imagine.’ Paul answered with a soft chuckle.

            Paul let himself fall back onto the bed as he heard Ringo shut the front door down stairs. His head was swimming. He couldn’t really believe what Ringo had told him. Not that he couldn’t imagine it. Or that he thought it would be disgusting or something. It’s just… He couldn’t really explain it. Ringo had opened his eyes to a world that seemed a little obscure. Paul couldn’t help but grin as he thought about when he had told Ringo that. Ringo had told him some people actually got off on seeing their boy- or girlfriend doing something like that. Paul had blushed terribly has he realised he wouldn’t mind seeing John do that, either. He wondered if John would do that for him. Maybe. If he did something for John. Paul’s grin got wider and wider as he let his mind be filled with dirty scenes and possible things to do. He actually wanted to do them. Really kind of badly. He was curious. He didn’t know if that was good or bad. And he didn’t really care.

            Paul shot up from the bed and quickly grabbed himself a towel. In the shower would be a good enough place to try it out. Just to see how it goes. He had to take a shower anyway. Why not get something out of it at the same time. Besides, he had to do it sometime. Why not now?

            He ran across the hallway, hoping the bathroom wasn’t occupied by his brother. His father wouldn’t be in there, he knew that. He could hear the sports channel of the telly downstairs. His dad was probably watching some kind of sports game. Mike didn’t really like to watch sports on the telly so Paul was certain his dad was downstairs. Paul hoped Mike was in his bedroom, doing whatever he did in there. Since his brother had hit puberty, he decided not to go in there unexpected anymore, unlike Mike himself who still came in Paul’s room whenever he wanted. Really, the lad would always find a way in if he wanted. And locking the door didn’t help. Not a lock in the world would keep that little brad out. And he didn’t care if you had visitors. He and John had found that out the _hard_ way. Paul decided then at that moment that John really wouldn’t mind doing what Ringo had told him for him. The guy was a right pervert at some points. Paul did see that the bulge in John’s jeans had grown when Mike had walked in on them making out and rubbing against each other on the bed. Paul had to give him two times his weekly allowance to make sure the boy would keep his mouth shut. In the meantime John hadn’t been able to keep his hands of him. Paul grinned and felt a twitch in his pants as he thought about it. He pushed his ear against the door to hear if anyone was inside. When he didn’t hear anything he pushed the door open.

            Paul had been ready for shouts and curses, but none came. He opened his eyes, which he apparently had closed somewhere between listening against the door and pushing it open. The bathroom was empty. No one was there. Paul smiled to himself and stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

            He moved quickly. He hung his towel from the sink and took off his clothing. He neatly folded it up and laid it down as far away from the shower as possible, not wanting it to get wet. Then he moved to the shower and turned it on. Paul hated waiting for the shower to get warm. It was always cold in the bathroom. Well too cold to be naked, anyway. He occasionally let his hand under the shower, feeling whether it was already hot. Somehow it took longer than normally. At least, that’s what it felt like to Paul.

            When the shower was finally a little warm, he jumped under it. Paul hummed as the water streamed down his tired body, massaging his tense muscles and relaxing him. True, he hadn’t done much, but the whole thing with John and Stuart had really worn him out. His body could really use some stress relieve.

            Paul looked up at the stream of water and let the water hit his face. The ticklish feeling felt so good. The water slowly got warmer and slowly Paul felt his heartbeat slow down. He hadn’t even noticed it had been racing in his chest most of afternoon and the whole evening. He let out a content sigh and dragged his fingers through his wet hair. They felt so soft. Paul played with his hair for a bit, changing the styles as he massaged his scalp at the same time. He had really needed this shower. Paul loved to shower. He didn’t really understand how some people could drown themselves in their own filth. He didn’t get how that was supposed to be relaxing. And besides, the water was always too hot or too cold when you were in the bath. In the shower the temperature stayed constant and you could change it to whatever you liked. Paul didn’t really get baths. Though he had to admit that he wouldn’t mind if someone would come up with something that allowed you to read in the shower. That was the only plus of bathing. You could read. Paul could never read in the shower. He tried once. When he was little. His mother had held him and soothed him as he cried over the soaked book that was barely readable anymore. So that might be a plus, but he’d say no to everything else.

            Paul slowly let himself slide down the cold tiles onto the floor. The head of the shower was adjust just right for him. The warm water still massaged his chest and legs as he sat with his back against the wall. He looked up again. He loved to see that water fall down. It reminded him of the rain. It sort of had the same kind of relaxing and calming effect on him. And the way the light made the drops of falling, hot water glister just gave something of a magical feel to it. It looked so beautiful and pretty. Like little diamonds falling from the sky. His father had painted the ceiling a very dark shade of blue. Paul suspected he wasn’t the only who liked how it looked.

            Paul closed his eyes and let himself relax and his mind wander, guiding it slightly away from Stuart. Not from John. He didn’t mind thinking about John. He rather liked it. Even now. He just didn’t like to think about Stuart. He wondered if John already knew about their upcoming gig. He couldn’t wait. It was going to be amazing. They did need a drummer. Since Pete had left. Well, left wasn’t maybe the right description. He just sort of told everyone that if they would start again, like for real, they could give him a call. He had just kind of grown fed up with John and Paul. Though, none of the remaining band members had actually said so, they all knew that they wouldn’t call Pete again. It wasn’t that they didn’t like him. It just didn’t really click. There wasn’t that special spark that the other three had together. It just wasn’t the same. And sometimes his drumming was kind of off. Bloody annoying too sometimes. His personality, that is.

            Paul shook his head and opened his eyes again. He shouldn’t think about things like that right now. He should relax. He should… A naughty grin crept onto Paul’s lips.  He slowly let his hand, that had been resting on his thigh, move up. Paul’s eyes slowly fell shut again as he began to draw circles on his wet skin with his fingertips. The feeling was somewhat ticklish, but good and comforting. He concentrated on his touch and he moved higher and higher and slowly between his slightly spread legs. Slowly he felt his member begin to wake up. The other hand he moved to his belly, rubbing it there and lowered it slowly to just above his pubic hair. Paul let his body slide down a little more, so he was lying more rather than sitting. His hands continued to move closer and closer to his slowly hardening cock. The lazy movements of his fingers relaxed him even more and his lips parted as his finger finally stroked past the base of his cock. The skin was smooth and velvety like. It reminded him strongly of John’s hard cock when he’d feel it in the palm of his hand. His mouth watered at the thought. He wished John was here in the shower with him. That it were his fingers that circled and stroked lazy over his skin, making him harder and harder. Paul hummed as he let his fingers wrap themselves around his shaft. His breathing hitched briefly as he squeezed himself, like John always did to him when he would give him a hand job. Paul could see John in his head. That lovely headful of gorgeous auburn hair that always brushed against his body as John kissed him. His lips, his cheeks, his nose, his eyes, his ears, his neck, his shoulder, his collarbone, his chest, his nipples, his bellybutton, the little path of hair that led the way to the place where John’s lips still hadn’t come. Paul’s other hand moved up his body, caressing his chest, playing with his pink nipples until they stood erect, like John would have done. Paul groaned and let his hand speed up, moving his hips with the movements of his fist. John would push him down, forcing him to surrender to him as he would start to suck and nibble at his nipples, rolling his skilled tongue over them. And how Paul wished that skilful tongue would roll over something even harder and longer that ached for attention from something different than a hand.

            Just as he thought that Paul remembered what Ringo had told him. The corners of his mouth curled up again and his thumb rubbed over the slit of his cock, spreading the precum around. His cock was now completely hard. Paul loved jerking off in the shower. It allowed him to take his time and imagine whatever and whoever he wanted. The feeling of the water hitting his chest, legs and also his cock were giving him just that little extra and it felt amazing. Paul’s hand tightened its grip as Paul parted his lips even more and wetted them with his tongue.  His other hand moved up, higher and higher, up his chest, up his neck, over his jawline and finally he caressed his lips with them.

            He immediately felt a twitch in his cock from both the somehow extremely good feeling and the idea of what he was going to do. He parted his lips even more, his teeth now showing even with his mouth open. He moved his tongue out and let it circle around the tip of his finger teasingly. The image of John’s cock came in his head as he licked his finger again, now imagining it to be something quite different. Paul groaned and twisted his hand, feeling his arousal built increasingly more. Then he slowly circles his tongue around it again, pulled it in his mouth and closed his lips around them. Immediately he hollowed his cheeks, like Ringo had told him to do, and began to suck softly.

            It felt strangely good, sucking your own fingers. He couldn’t wait to do it to John. The proper John. Not the one in his head. He sucked his finger in deeper and deeper, slowly letting it slide in completely. He tried not to think about the sucking, but just relax and let it all come naturally. And it did come naturally. Soon, without even really realising it, he had two fingers completely in his mouth, practically in his throat, for a far as fingers went, and was sucking like he wanted more and more. His other fingers were teasing his cock greatly and everything together felt so good.

            Paul could feel his balls tense up a little and could feel he was getting closer and closer. He tried to suck his fingers with a little more skill, letting his tongue massage them as he sucked hard and swallowed the thick spit that formed in his mouth and began to drop down his hand onto the tiles. He could feel it run over his naked chest and being washed away as he started to jerk harder and faster, squeezing occasionally as he took another finger in his mouth.

            He was so relaxed it didn’t seem like any difficulty. He wondered briefly why he hadn’t been able to do this all to John. Paul could imagine it would feel so heavenly good on his cock. Paul let his head jerk back as he imagined it. He started to breathe a little more heavily, but continued to suck his fingers like a lollipop. Fuck, he couldn’t wait to do this to John. John would love him for it. He knew that much. Silently he hoped he’d be better than Stuart. But only briefly because then he felt his balls tense up and his cock twitch in his hand. He let his fingers slide out and cupped his balls, playing with them as he groaned loudly and his climax crept closer and closer. Fuck, it felt so good.

            Paul imagined John hovering over him, letting his fingers run over his cock as he began to jerk himself to a climax. Soon imaginary John moaned and cried out as he came onto Paul’s body with quick strokes and the hand on Paul’s cock began to shake and twitch. That little sight in his head was enough for Paul to come, too, shooting his come up high and onto his thighs and hands. His muscles tightening and his legs spasming as he moaned out John’s name.

            Paul slowly opened his eyes again. He smirked to himself as he saw his own come on his hand. He wondered what it tasted like. Ringo had told him that it was alright to swallow and that most guys, and girls, did shallow it after their partner had come on their hand, body or in their mouth. Paul hadn’t felt much for it at first, but now that he saw his own glistering, whitish come on his hand and cock he had to admit he was quite curious. He licked his lips and stared as he hand moved closer and closer to them. He had gotten this far, why not give it a try. He’d had to sometime. Better to spit it out now than when it was John’s. Paul could imagine that it would sort of hurt if someone would spit out your come, however disgusting it might be. Paul took a deep breath before slipping his tongue between his lips and run it across the back of his hand that was covered in his come. He swallowed quickly. Ready to throw up any moment, he was surprised when he found the taste not really bad. It wasn’t like chocolate or something, but it was alright. A little salty and bitter, but there was something about it that was quiet pleasant. Paul gave his hand another lick. And another. And soon he began to suck the come off his fingers. No one would know anyway. So what did it matter?  Paul let his eyes fall close again as he sucked.

            Suddenly there was a knock on the door and Paul nearly had a heart attack. When he stood again, he realised how stupid he was acting. No one would be stupid enough to actually walk in. The last time Mike had done that he hadn’t been able to sit properly for two days. It would have been one if Paul hadn’t been jerking then as well. Paul made a mental note to himself to start locking the door.

            ‘Paul?’ Another knock, ‘Are you in there?’ It was his father. Paul turned off the shower and grabbed a towel.

‘Yeah, I’m here. Just hang on a tad bit.’ He answered.

‘John’s on the phone for you!’ His father spoke through the door. Paul’s hands seemed like they had just decided to stop working as he dropped the towel. John. At the phone? What time was it anyway? John hadn’t called all day and now he decides to call?

‘Shall I tell him you’re in the shower?’ His dad asked as Paul didn’t say anything.

‘NO! No, I’ll take it. Just hand on. I just have to wrap a tower around myself. I’ll be right there.’ Paul answered quickly.

‘Alright. I’ll tell him that shall I?’ His father asked with a chuckle. Paul blushed. He knew his father didn’t know about him and John. They had decided not to tell anyone yet. But his father did make these little “jokes”. And Paul couldn’t remember if he already made them before John and him got together.

            ‘John?’ Paul asked as he held the phone next to his ear. He held the towel up with his right hand as he held the phone with his left. His hair was still dripping wet and he saw his father disapprovingly shaking his head as he saw the drops of water fall down onto the carpet.

‘Hi… err… Hi.’ The answer came. John’s voice was shaking. Paul groaned inaudibly. John knew that he knew about the letters. Then Paul began to panic. Was that why John called him. To talk? To break up?

            ‘Listen, Paul… Err… I have to talk to you.’ John’s voice was tight and Paul nearly felt bad for him.

‘What is it?’ Paul asked in a happy voice, pretending like nothing was wrong. Paul could nearly hear John’s muscles relax at his boyfriends relaxed voice.

‘I have great news!’ John said. Paul sighed. He wasn’t going to talk about the letters. If he was he wouldn’t start with “I have great new!”. Paul was glad. He really couldn’t talk about it now. But there was still something nagging at Paul’s chest. How could John be so happy all of a sudden? Didn’t he care?

‘We have a gig! A GIG! Saturday next week! Isn’t that great?’ John asked. Paul sighed.

‘Yeah I know! I heard from Ringo.’ He said, his voice a little more uncaring than he had wanted. He could hear to effects it had in John’s voice.

‘Oh, you did. Well… Good! Listen. There’s more. George met up with some guy who’s into the music business. Not much, but he’s in it. He’s going to listen to us, Paul! He’s going to make us… well, you can’t really say it. That would ruin it, but he is! I know he is! We’re heading into the right direction, Paul. UP! Isn’t that great?’ John spoke quickly and was obviously excited. Paul couldn’t say he wasn’t either, but…

‘Paul are you, okay? We’re going to be _it_ , Paul! George says the had already heard about us loads of times. And when he heard about the gig he immediately contacted George! I can’t believe it, Paul!’ John continued.

Paul sighed and felt his eyes starting to hurt.

‘That’s great, John…’ Paul said, his voice cracking, ‘Really grand. Swell…’ Paul felt like he was on the edge of tears. Didn’t John just care about them? Was it all about the band? All they had done together had in one way or another to do with the band. Writing songs, playing guitar, even smoking because they would fantasize about being famous. The only time that they didn’t talk or think about the band was when they were fooling around. John didn’t care about _him._ He cared about the fucking _band_! Of course! John had always told him he didn’t fall for little boys.

‘Swell?’ John asked with a chuckle, ‘Are you feeling alright, Paul? _Swell_ enough?’ Paul felt his heart break. He felt like the phone in his hand was sucking it out of him with every word John spoke. And John was laughing. He was making fun of him. How could he have been so stupid. _John didn’t fall for little boys._

‘I’m fine, John. Really. Just the shock.’ _That you didn’t fall for me at all._ Paul wanted to add it, but his voice didn’t let him.

‘Alright… Listen, I talked to George and we sort of thought about practise this Wednesday. You up for it? We could talk…’ John soft of added the last in a very slow and low voice that Paul knew immediately what he meant. He was going to break up with him. He had obviously talked with Stuart and the slimy poisonous cocksucker had somehow convinced him to come back to him. Paul cursed the say that John had first set his eyes on the cheating git.

‘Sure. Listen, I’m rather tired. I’ll see you Wednesday. At eight?’ Paul asked as he rubbed his forehead.

‘Yeah…’ John’s answer came. And with that Paul hang up, let his body slide down the wall and hug his legs as he buried his face between his knees to hide the tears that were now rolling down his cheeks. 


	6. Chapter 6

John sighed and stared at the phone that hung down from the wall. He wasn’t sure what to do. He had called Paul again just minutes ago, but his dad had told him he wasn’t in. Which was ridiculous, seeing he had talked to him only ten minutes before and it was already dark outside. John hadn’t a clue what time it was, but he was certain it was way too late for Paul to go out. His father would never let him. But what _was_ he doing? What was he thinking about? Was it about the letters? Should he have said anything about them?

John had to know what went on inside that pretty little head of his boyfriend. If he still was his boyfriend. Yes, of course. They hadn’t talked about the whole thing yet and neither had said anything that would have indicated that they had broken up. So, obviously this was just a… what? Row? Not really, right? More like an misunderstanding, probably. John wasn’t stupid. He knew what Paul was thinking. What else would you be thinking if you read those letters. The only thing that John wasn’t sure of was if Paul thought that he and Stuart were having real contact and seeing each other again. He hoped not. Because he wasn’t. The twisted wanker could walk to hell for all he cared. The only reason why he had answered that one time was to tell him to fuck off. Nobody spoke ill of James Paul McCartney. Not as long as he was his boyfriend and the other way around. Maybe not even if that wouldn’t be the case, anymore. Though John wasn’t really sure himself, he guessed he loved him. And the fact that Paul doubted that, hurt him. Terribly.

            John silently hoped Paul would come to his senses and call him up to talk about it. To let him explain what was going on. But the phone didn’t rang. It just stayed there, hanging on the wall. Not making a single sound.

‘I miss you, Paulie.’ John muttered with a sigh as he let his head fall back and rest against the wall.

‘You crazy git. Call me.’

            Paul suddenly had the urge to call John. To talk about it all and have it all over with. But he was too tired. Finally he had been able to lie comfortably in his bed. His dad had seen him crying, the phone clutched in his hand. He had brought him upstairs and had sat next to him on the bed, soothing him without saying a word. He just was there. And that was enough for Paul. His dad hadn’t asked what was wrong, but Paul knew that he would eventually and that he had to explain. His dad wasn’t the kind of guy that would just leave things as they were. Not when it came down to his kids. Especially since his mother died. Before that it had always been Mary to talk to him and Mike when something was up. Paul knew his father felt obligated to take on that part now. He was glad he had most of the time, but right now Paul hoped he wouldn’t ask. Which was, he knew, ridiculous, seeing he almost never cried. When he cried something was seriously wrong. His dad would never leave it as it was. But at that time he had and had just been there until Paul had stopped crying and finally calmed down. His father had asked if he was alright and Paul had nodded, saying he was tired and wanted to sleep. His dad had given him a kiss on the top of his head before walking out. Something he rarely did. Another reason why Paul knew his dad was going to ask him what was the matter.

Paul couldn’t even lift a finger anymore. It was like his warm bed had drawn all the energy from his body. Like some kind of weird, but extremely comfortable, evil sucking device. No, Paul could hardly move. He would never be able to make it down the stairs without falling, and besides, what’s the difference between calling now or tomorrow. Apart from the time, nothing really.

            Paul didn’t call the next day. Or the day after that. He told himself that he had wanted to call, but simply hadn’t found the time. That was partly true. School had somehow gotten rather busy and that combined with the job his dad had forced on him, he rarely had time to hang out with friends or something like that, but on the other hand he would have been able to call John if he had really wanted to. But he didn’t. He told himself he did want to call, but deep down he knew he didn’t. And why? He was scared. Scared for what the truth was. Scared for what might happen. Scared for what might stop.

            John had been calling, though. A lot. He hadn’t exactly counted the times that he had been clutching at the phone, hoping Paul would pick up and practising things to say in his head, muttering them into the horn every once in a while to see how it would sound, but about thirty-eight times was a close enough count. John was certain his aunt thought of him as some kind of lunatic. Even more than before.

            Now John had decided to try something else. Now he’d wait nearby the phone for Paul to call him. Because, maybe if it seemed like it didn’t bother him, Paul would get upset and call him. But so far he had had no luck. The phone had only rang once in the last four hours. And that had been someone who had dialled the  wrong number. John hadn’t realised before that not many people called him.

            John sighed as he looked himself over in the mirror. He was looking like crap. There wasn’t a nicer way of saying it. He just looked like crap. His hair was all messy, but not in a good and sexy kind of way, but in the way a homeless guy would have his hair. He had dark circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep, since his mind had spent most of the night coming up with stupid scenarios concerning him and Paul that had kept him awake until he would pass out. John narrowed his eyes as he studied himself. He had to shave. And maybe wash his hair, but he really couldn’t be bothered right now. He was already late for school. He picked up his comb and tried for the last time to adjust his hair in such a way that it wouldn’t look like he had stuck his fingers in the socket.

            John quickly cycled to college. His hair was messy again from the wind, but he had brought his comb along so he would be fine. Practise would be that evening. John felt his heart speed up as he thought about it. It was probably going to be just the three of them, if George didn’t bring that Richard guy along. Or Ringo. Whatever the guy wanted to be called. George called him Ritchie. Which John thought was just stupid. He didn’t call Paulie any different either, right? Okay, he called him Macca sometimes, but he had already done that before they had  gotten together. He still called him Paul. Not Jamie, or something, after his first name. Just Paulie, err.. Paul.

            ‘Morning, John! On time as always I see.’ A voice suddenly called as John parked his bike against the fence. John turned around with an annoyed look on his face. There was a blond haired girl standing right in front of him. She was rather petite. Small face, slim physique. She wasn’t very tall either. She came as high as his shoulder. Her eyes were a bright green and she wore a black skirt that came to just above her knee and a pink knitted top. She was quite attractive. It was a shame her teeth weren’t that straight and her mouth too small for his big round eyes. She was smirking at him. John needed some time to remember her, but as soon as she flicked her hair back with a little shake of her head, he did and he knew he didn’t like her.

‘Oh, what do you want, Elaine? I’m not in the mood, alright.’ John spat at her.

‘Touchy, touchy.’ She said in a mocking tone as she tied her hair up in a bun. John rolled with his eyes before turning back to his bike to lock it. He really didn’t feel like talking to her. Her dad was some kind of big guy at some fancy business. And she acted like a spoilt brat. Which she was, but that didn’t mean she had to act like one. Damn annoying she was and she always thought she was better than anyone else. John really didn’t like her. Not at all. It was a pity that she did like him. And she never gave up, even though she knew that John wasn’t interested in her at all.

‘Just say what you’ve got to say and fuck off, yeah?’ John said. When he turned back around he saw she was smiling at him. An bothersome twinkle was in her eyes.

‘I’ve got something for you,’ She said as she slowly walked closer, ‘But I’m not sure I want to give it to you.’ John leaned on the saddle of his bike and suppressed a yawn. Elaine slowly came closer and closer before gently lying a hand on top of his.

‘But I’m sure you’ll be able to persuade me.’ She spoke in a low voice and made sure her lips moved slowly. Her tongue ran over her bottom lip, probably trying to be sexy and seductive. John flashed her a smile and cocked his head.

‘I might.’ John answered. Elaine blinked a few times, looking surprised with his answer. John turned his hand and took her hand in his. He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb before roughly pulling her against him. She gasped and whined as she felt John’s other hand grab her hair and painfully pull it backwards.

‘You’re really pathetic, you know that.’ John spoke in her ear before pulling a little harder. She whimpered softly and tried to move away, but John held her tightly.

‘Just give me what you need to give me and fuck off. I’m sick and tired of your childish games, Elaine.’ John continued as he looked into her eyes. She nodded. John could tell she tried to look scared. But the excited twinkle in her eyes gave her away.

‘Now, tell me… What do you have for me?’ John asked before letting go of her and pushing her away from him. He knew she still wouldn’t gave up, but at least she’d leave him alone after this. Playing all sweet and innocent. It was only an act. Obviously. She could fool many boys, but not him. He could see right through her.

‘It’s a note. From Paul.’ She said as he stepped away and fixed her hair again. The way too happy tone had left her voice. It sounded a little more normal now. Less fake and like a five year old. John’s heart skipped a beat as he heard her say Paul’s name.

‘P-Paul?’ he asked. He felt his hands get clammy. Elaine reached inside her shirt and pulled a note out of it. John stared at it as she handed it to him.

‘Yeah. I don’t see why your friends with him, though. He’s just a child, really.’ She spoke. John could hear the jealousy in her voice, but he decided not to pay any further attention to her. He put the note away in his pocket after staring at it for a little while, not opening it. Elaine watched with confusion as he suddenly ran away. She wanted to call after him, asking what was wrong, but she knew he wouldn’t answer her. So instead she just watched him run away to the big wooden front door of the school. His messy hair was all wrong, she noted, before shrugging and making her way to her next class.

 

_John,_

_I’m sorry I didn’t answer any of your calls or called you myself._

_I just needed some time to think. Sadly, that was harder than I_

_had thought at first. But I do think we should talk. Properly._

_We both know what I am talking about, so don’t play dumb._

_Come to George’s house a little earlier this evening._

_Ringo is coming too, and I want to talk without them bothering us._

_I hope you understand._

_Love, Paul._

            John stared at the note in his hand as he sat on one of the big comfy chairs Mimi had bought a couple of weeks ago. He had been reading it for the seventh time that day, but he was still confused. What did Paul mean? Was this good or bad? John didn’t know. The fact that Paul hadn’t missed his calls but had simply ignored them made him feel a little sick. Was this it?

            John walked around the house, worrying about his meeting with Paul. Maybe it wasn’t all that bad. Paul had signed it with ‘Love, Paul’. That meant something right? So maybe Paul really did just want to talk. But what was he going to say? Did he have to start up the conversation? No, Paul had invited him to talk. Paul would start. Hopefully. John removed his nail from his mouth as he realised he had been biting it. He looked at the clock in the living room. He should probably clean himself up real quick and leave for George’s house. Though, they hadn’t said a precise time, John knew Paul probably wanted him to come about half an hour early.

            John quickly walked over to George’s house. For the end of September it was still fairly warm and so John hadn’t brought a jacket with him. He just wore the black jeans he knew Paul liked with a nice looking clean shirt above it. He had somehow managed to wash his hair and shave in a short time and was now going to be early. He hoped Paul would be there already. He didn’t really like waiting. Especially when he didn’t know what was going to happen.

            When John arrived Paul wasn’t there yet, so he sat down on the curb and cleaned his glasses. He had decided to wear them as he remembered Paul telling him how good he looked in them once. It had been a long time ago, long before they had started this whole dating thing or even before John had known that Paul thought of him like he did. But it had stuck with him nonetheless somehow. Probably Paul had meant more to him even then than he realised.

            ‘Evening, John. I see you made some effort in looking good!’ A voice called suddenly from behind him. John felt his heart sped up. He quickly looked behind him. A tall figure was standing right behind him, his knees only four inches away from his face. John’s eyes widened in shock before he slowly looked up. He felt his blood boil and his heart grow cold at the same time. 

* * *

 

John felt his blood start boiling and his heart growing cold at the same time.

‘What are you doing here?’ John asked coldly. Stuart took of his jacket with a sigh and sat down next to his ex-boyfriend. John stared at him as he casually got a package of cigarettes out of his pocket and lighted one. He rested his head with his hand on his knee as he took a drag.

‘Nothing much,’ Stuart answered, his voice dull, he let the smoke escape from his mouth as he spoke, ‘Just wanted us to talk this whole situation over.’

‘Well, we can’t. I have made plans with Paul to talk before practise. He’ll be here any time soon, so you’d better leave. I don’t think he much likes the sight of you.’ John replied, turning his head to the road as if to say that he doesn’t care that Stuart is there. He heard Stuart sigh next to him. He twitched as he felt his hand on his knee. 

‘John, Paul… He didn’t write that letter.’ Stuart said, not showing any intention of leaving. John turned his head to him.

‘What?’ He asked softly. Stuart could see he was obviously shocked and disappointed in a way. Sad. He took a deep breath, gathering courage to continue.

‘I did. I…’ Stuart was interrupted before he could explain.

‘Why?! Just so you could talk to me about this. To try and win me back? Or is this just some kind of weird trick. Are you trying to make things even worse between us? Because that won’t be necessary. You’ve done enough.’

‘John… I just need to talk to you. I don’t care about you and Paul. All I care about is you, John. I love you. I want to make it better. I don’t want you to feel like you do. I want you to be happy. With me preferably.’ Stuart tried. John shook his head and looked away.

‘It’s not worth it, Stu. I told you it is over. What you did to me… _this thing_ … _This_ can’t be fixed. You ruined it, Stu. I could never be happy with you. Not after this. Not after what you did to me. What you did to Paul. And I can’t believe you are so dumb and selfish that you can’t even see that. ’ John said as he rose to his feet. Stuart stared up at him. When John wanted to turn and walk away, Stuart threw himself at John’s leg, nearly making him fall over.

‘John, please. Let’s just talk this over, yeah? I… You know I’m sorry for what I did. I just want to talk to you about what happened. I just… I can’t go on if you continue to think like that about me.’ Stuart nearly begged.

‘It’s your own bloody fault.’ John replied coldly.

‘I know, but… Listen, John. I…’

‘Why don’t you just leave me the fuck alone?! Why do you have to ruin everything?! First us two, and now me and Paul! Why can’t you just let me be fucking happy?!’ John suddenly screamed. He felt Stuart hand twitch around his ankle. He hadn’t actually meant to scream at him, but he just couldn’t help himself. It was like he had lost all control over his voice. But somehow the screaming had felt good. Like it was finally getting all out of his system. The anger, the frustration, the pain and the last signs of his depression. He felt his body start to relax and his heart slow down to a normal speed. At that moment he realised his heart hadn’t been beating normally ever since he heard that Stuart was cheating from Paul. He let his eyes fall close and sighed softly. His legs were weak and his knees shook slightly from the stress that was leaving his body. John relaxed even more as Stuart slowly removed himself from his leg.

‘Because I can’t.’ The man behind him on the street spoke. John’s eyes opened again and he turned back to Stuart. His eyes were wide and watery, his face pale and his body tensed up as wrapped his arms around his legs. He looked up at John and shook his head before he buried is face between his knees. John just looked down at him. He couldn’t move. He didn’t know what to say, but he probably couldn’t even speak if he wanted to. All he could do was just stand there while Stuart broke down before him.

‘I just fucking can’t…’

            John didn’t really understand why he sat back down next to Stuart. Maybe it was because the man rarely broke down like this, or maybe because he had nowhere to go, perhaps it was because he still felt sort of responsible for what happened. John sighed and let his folded hands hang between his legs with a sigh. He could hear Stuart whimpering softly between his knees. His body shook lightly. John didn’t know what to do. He never had to comfort anyone before.

            He remembered how Paul had been there for him that night when he had heard his mother had died. He remembered how Paul had wrapped an arm around his shoulders and held him close against him, while he was patting his head gently with his hand. Paul had given him a shoulder to cry on. An opportunity to forget about his tough looking teddy boy exterior and to let down that wall which he had built around him to protect himself. And John had. The wall him had scattered around him and he had opened himself up for Paul. He had shown him his fears, his doubts, his feelings… He had shown him the coward that lay within him. The coward that couldn’t even go to his own mum’s funeral. John had been glad that Paul had made him go, though. He knew he would have regretted it in the end if he hadn’t.

            But John couldn’t give that to the man next to him. He couldn’t tell him it was going to be alright and he would be there for him. He couldn’t tell him that he would never leave him, like Paul had done, because he knew that this pain and regret Stuart was feeling was primary _because_ he was leaving him. John couldn’t hold him closely against him and sooth him until he would stop shaking. Because both of them had built up new walls for the other to keep out. Stuart had shown it by being a complete dick from time to time, John had shown it just be simply ignoring the man and punching him right in the face. So instead John sat there, silently waiting for the man to calm down. Maybe he was just too much of an coward to actually show affection to the man whom he had loved and who had betrayed him. Because deep down, he still doubted everything that had happened and deep within him still lay the love he had felt for the man. John highly doubted if it would ever completely go away.

            ‘I’m leaving.’ John heard Stuart speak next to him all of a sudden. He hadn’t realised the man had stopped shaking and the tears that had been on  his face had gone. He turned to look at the man. He was looking at him, or his shirt rather. John somehow felt a little hurt that his former boyfriend couldn’t even look him in the eye anymore. He had always hoped that when the day would come that they would leave each other for a lovely bird to marry, they would somehow stay old friends and would meet up together once in a while, remembering the good old days. It looked like that idea had faded away now.

‘I’m off to Hamburg. I’ve been excepted in an art college there. Big fancy artistic place.’ Stuart continued. He was playing with his fingers. It made John nervous.

‘Why?’ John asked. He hadn’t really planned to ask that. He had wanted to congratulate him and tell him to follow his dream and go there. But his mouth  had decided differently. Stuart looked up at him, more due to a habit than because he wanted to. John saw him swallow when their eyes locked.

‘To get away. From you. Paul. Us. Everything. And besides what is better than going to an art college abroad. Could look good for future reference.’ Stuart answered with a weak smile. John nodded in reply and looked away.

‘You’re moving away. To fucking Germany!’ he exclaimed to the ground.

‘I know, John.’ Stuart said with a sigh, ‘I just… Look at us, John. We’ve been over for a couple of months now and I still can’t seem to just forget about you. I still can’t believe you are actually seeing Paul and I just can’t fucking let you go! It’s like my mind doesn’t get the fact that we’re over with. It’s bloody frustrating John!’

‘But you don’t have to go all to way to Germany…’John muttered.

‘I’m leaving, John. I have to take distance from everything. I need to get away. I need to get it all out my system. I… I’ve been to Hamburg before. It isn’t at all a bad place. Somewhat quirky people, sure, but I want to meet new people. I want to get out. I can’t let you and Paul be if I’m not able to take some distance. I’ve tried, John. Really. I did. I tried before I came to see you that night when you punched me. It tried after that until I decided to write you. But I can’t. So I figured I’d leave. Get away from us. Not you, John. Us.’ Stuart tried to explain. John sighed and rubbed his temples. He knew Stuart was probably right. They needed to get away from each other. But Germany! Why couldn’t he go to Scotland or something? He asked.

‘I hadn’t planned on Germany, John. I… it just sort of happened. I wanted to go somewhere where I could focus on my painting. To get better. Going to Scotland didn’t give me that same kind of thrill as going to Hamburg. It didn’t seem like I was willing to take sacrificed, you know. Hamburg… It’s an whole other place, John.’ Stuart answered. John nodded. He didn’t want Stuart to leave. It seemed so definite.

‘I won’t be gone forever. I’ll be back. When I’ve finished college. I promise, John. It’s just for now. I’ll be back.’ Stuart soothed as if he had read his mind.

‘Just don’t forget about me. I don’t want you to forget me, Stu.’ John said without really thinking. Stuart smiled sweetly at him and wrapped an arm around John.

‘I won’t. I’ll be back and the first thing I’ll do is visit you, alright?’ He said with a slight comforting chuckle. John couldn’t help but chuckle himself as well. 

            John didn’t know what did the trick. Probably it was because Stuart was leaving that they could leave their differences aside and decide to act normally towards each other. They would talk about everything that had happened, just so both of them could except the fact that Stuart was moving out of old Liverpool and into the far off distant city of Hamburg. That was most likely the case, but what had given the two young lads the will to do so, John really didn’t have a clue. Apart from that everything was pretty fucked up already, so how could it possibly get any worse? It was already going better with Stu moving away. Finally he and Paul would get the real opportunity to be together. With Stuart gone, John would finally have to change  to forget about the whole breaking up so the only he would remember in his old days would be the happy times he had with him. Because they were many. Much more than the twisted, bad times of the last couple of months and sometimes before that. John could kiss Stuart for making the decision to make both their lives easier by moving away. So everything around them would calm done and the clouds, that had gone dark and dangerous would be drifting from the sky, revealing the clear blue sky of their lives apart.

                        Paul’s dark clouds of misery and despair didn’t seem to drift away, however. He had had that knotted feeling inside his chest for the whole walk to George’s house. He had had a throat tightening, stomach turning feeling at home where his dad would watch him closely, waiting for the moment when Paul would break down again like the night before and tell him everything. Hoping that day would come soon. Paul had been glad that his bother didn’t bother him with everything that was going on around them. Paul had told him. He had come and visit him to tell him himself last Monday. It already seemed ages ago. Time was dragging itself forwards slowly. Too slow for Paul’s liking. Yet, his bother had been there to comfort him and let him talk whenever he needed to, but he also let him take his mind off everything that was happening. He’d talk to him about his own life. About the girls he fancied, yes the lucky lad was straight, for fuck’s sake, his school, his friends, everything. He’d come to him for help, even when he didn’t need it, just to make him feel like he wasn’t alone and that he meant something for other people. Mike’s gestures were subtle, but so helpful and Paul hadn’t a clue how he could have kept sane if he hadn’t been there. If only his dad would be as smart as his son and stop staring at him with those eyes. Curious, searching and worried. Paul didn’t need that. He needed laughter, smiles, happiness, comfort and normal life. To escape his mind. His father’s staring had only made his mind work till the late (or early) hours of the day. Making it nearly impossible for young Paul McCartney to give his head a rest and mentally prepare himself for the band meeting. Thank god for young Michael.

                        But even young Michael wouldn’t be able to help him now. Now that he was watching what he saw. His boyfriend and his ex-boyfriend sitting closely, talking, laughing, on the curb in front of George’s house. Not even the young lad’s silly childish humour could have made his lips twitch and curl up into a half-hearted smile. Paul couldn’t hear what they were saying. But he didn’t have to. He knew what was going on when he saw Stuart rest his head against John’s shoulder with a sad-like smile. John sighed and just looked down at him. With those eyes… His eye were soft and gentle and it was like he was daydreaming. His lips twitched and curled up in a dreamy smile. It was like an burning arrow through Paul’s heart. Everything around him scattered to pieces. John and Stuart… Paul swallowed thickly and shook his head when he felt salty tears burn behind his eyes. He couldn’t cry. He had known it, right? He had read the letters. He had seen how John acted towards him. And now he caught the two of them. Together. Sitting closely. Legs touching. Heads resting. Eyes wandering over the other’s physique. Corners of lips curling up. Mouths sighing. Relieved.

            The two young lads didn’t even notice him. They just talked and looked at each other. Paul felt his blood start to warm up more and more when Stuart laid a hand on John’s arm. His blood was really boiling when John let him. It was over. They were over. The days of JohnandPaul, however short it was, were finally done for. Paul’s body shook lightly as he watched them. He couldn’t look away. Paul knew now he had just been a temporary replacement. Just to make Stuart come back to John, begging on his knees, cock probably forced down his throat. Paul felt himself getting sick. His stomach turned and he felt his dinner come up. When he felt the sour substance reached his mouth, his swallowed. Only making it worse. Paul swallowed again, trying to make the bad taste in his mouth go away. It didn’t work. He felt his legs start moving as he continued to swallow. There was nothing he could do. He just walked. Like his legs had a mind of their own. Paul’s eyes were still fixed on John and Stuart. Stuart was laughing like fool at something John had said. The latter had a goofy grin on his face. It told Paul everything he needed to know.

            He walked quickly. He saw John and Stuart tense up at the sound of his approaching footsteps. John was the first to look up into his direction. Their eyes locked. John smiled at first, but soon his face turned somewhat sad and sour. Afraid even, maybe. But John didn’t know the feeling of being afraid. Not really. He didn’t know how to act when he was afraid. He seemed to know now. Paul looked away when he saw Stuart look into his direction as well. Paul bit his tongue to keep him from breaking down right there in front of them. He wouldn’t give them that pleasure. So he bit down hard, the taste of blood mixing with the sour taste to  a taste that made Paul wonder if it wasn’t toxic.

            ‘Paul!’ He heard John suddenly call after him. He hadn’t noticed he had passed them. He shook his head and continued to walk.

‘Fuck off…’ Paul answered softly, his voice cracking, making him sound just like he felt. Defeated, hurt and lost. 

* * *

 

George already stood waiting for him in the door frame when Paul got to the small, dark, working-class house. George was watching him with a worried face. Paul couldn’t deal with it. He didn’t need his friends support or sympathy. He just needed to calm down. He didn’t want George to ask him if he was okay or whether he could do something for him. He didn’t want George to listen to his troubles. He just needed… Paul didn’t know what he needed. Rest. Time, maybe. All Paul knew now was that John had been unfair to him. That he had used him. All he knew was that John didn’t fall for young boys. The sentence just kept repeating itself in his head. Over and over again. In that same booming space. Like a mantra. 

            ‘You okay?’ George asked. Paul felt like he was going to cry. He felt his entire body weaken and his heart slow down to a dangerously low speed. It was out. He had said it. Paul took a deep breath and nodded.

‘Yeah. Great.’ He replied shortly as he pushed past George into the house. His voice was cracking and his throat felt dry. John doesn’t fall for little boys, he thought again. He couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t stop thinking it. He doesn’t fall for little boys.

‘You sure?’ George asked as he turned to him. Paul took of his jacket and shoes and threw them into a corner. John doesn’t fall for little boys like you.

‘Definitely.’ He replied softly, nearly as a whisper, not sure what he was answering.

            Paul sat on the couch, tuning his guitar, when John came in. Paul didn’t have to look up to know it was him. John always had that certain energy around him. Paul would always recognize him, anywhere, even when one hundred years would’ve gone by. John didn’t say anything and just stood there. Paul  himself froze, his fingers tightly on the strings, which were digging into his flesh, his gaze lowered, focused on the strings, his back slightly arched. He didn’t even breathe. His ears peeked and listened carefully for what John’s next move was going to be. But it was George who made the next move. To surprise of them  all.

‘Gonna get some booze. Anyone want some?’ He asked. No one answered. Paul heard George shrug and walk away.

‘I’ll just bring a few.’ He mumbled. George was really fed up with their messing about, Paul could tell. And he would be lying when he said he wasn’t.

            Paul’s muscles slowly began to move again. His finger strummed the out-of-tune B-string. The sound filled the air around the two lovers, somehow being incredible appropriate. Paul swallowed thickly as he adjusted the tightness of the string so it was just right. After all these years, tuning his guitar had become as easy as blinking to the young boy. Paul could feel John’s eyes on him, watching his finger move as he tuned the guitar, making him nervous. He breath was shaky and his fingers trembled slightly, making it difficult for him to press down the strings hard enough. He silently hoped John noticed.

            They stayed like that until George came back with a few bottles of beer. John hadn’t moved an inch and was still watching his younger boyfriend in complete silence, while Paul played a few loose accords just to be sure his guitar was properly tuned. George looked from the one to the other. Both men seemed tense, though John didn’t move at all. His face was tight and cold, except his eyes. His eyes travelled over Paul’s slender physique, watching him with both regret, longing and love. George could see his older friend’s eyes move in their sockets. The movements were quick and short, as if it were little shocks of electricity. John’s eyelids trembled, his eyes were wet. John wanted to blink, but he didn’t want to miss one second of Paul’s shaky, yet elegant movements. George had seen what had happened. And it seemed that John had too. At least he knows what goes on in Paul’s mind now.

            The bell rang. George thanked god. He noticed the tension drifting away from everyone. John moved. He took a deep breath and walked over to the other couch, his eyes still on Paul. George saw him struggling. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if  he should say or do anything at all. Paul looked up at George, obviously not wanting to meet John’s gaze.

‘I’ll go get it.’ George heard himself choke out. Paul nodded and looked back at the strings of his guitar, tuning the already perfectly tuned guitar, not knowing what else to do. George sighed and walked away. Maybe Richie would be able to him. George felt his lips curl up into a goofy smile. Richie…

            ‘What do you mean they fucked up?’ Ringo asked as he was being pulled inside by his sixteen years old boyfriend. George held onto Ringo’s collar and pulled his head down towards his.

‘Paul say John and Stuart together. They were talking.’ He said before pressing his lips against the older man’s. Ringo kissed back sweetly while his mind was racing.

‘What?’ He asked against the lips. George moved away.

‘I don’t’ know what was really going on. I was just watching them through the window. I couldn’t hear anything. Seemed like they made up.’ He said as he looked deep into Ringo’s eyes, pleading him to help him. Ringo took of his scarf and threw it on the ground along with his leather jacket before wrapping his arms around the younger boy’s waist, pulling his flush against his body. George blushed and laid his hands on Ringo’s broad and slightly muscled shoulders. He started to sweetly massage him.

‘Made up? As in, back together?’ Ringo asked. George shook his head.

‘No. Just… well… no hard feelings, I guess.’ He spoke, resting his head on Ringo’s shoulder, face buried in the crook of Ringo’s neck.

‘And Paul?’ Ringo asked.

‘What do you think?’ George sighed, ‘I’m tired of those two, Richie.’

‘It will be fine. Just leave them for now. They will figure it out.’

‘But what if they don’t?’

‘They will. They’re too crazy about each other.’

‘Suppose…’

‘Just leave them…’ Ringo whispered sweetly with his nose buried in George’s greasy styled hair, ‘For now.’ Softly pressed he his lips against his boyfriend’s troubled head. 

‘I’m just sick of it, you know.’

‘I do.’

            Ringo’s hands started sweating. He could feel it. His fingers slid smoothly over his wet-ish skin. What was happening now had he not expected when he had woken up this morning. Ringo let his eyes dart across the room. George, his boyfriend, was looking at him with hopeful eyes and an excited smile, while John looked more than just a bit unsure. He watched him with narrowed eyes, the corners of his lips twitching with every unexpected move Ringo made. It made it nearly impossible for the older man to move, scared for what John Lennon might do. Paul on the other hand was smiling sweetly at him, a bit further away from the rest, on his knees. The younger man’s eyes glistered in the golden light that shone through the curtains. Though, Ringo could see Pau was tense and could break down in tears any moment, Ringo was both surprise as impressed by the calm and authorised air that hung around the young lad. He, himself was far from being calm.

            Playing with The Beatles. Though, they weren’t in anyway famous, the now three boys had made quite a name for themselves in Liverpool. Ringo had seem them. John, Paul and George up on the stage, strumming and plucking their guitars, their rough voices screaming through the microphones, in leather gear and all. Birds went mental over them. Ringo couldn’t blame them. He felt rather flattered that George had let him be with him. Had chosen him over all those girls. And the other’s weren’t that bad either. If only the birds knew they were queer. Would be terrible, he supposed. What were the odds. A band, now three guys, all queer. Or sort off, at least. And now he had been asked to join as well. As drummer. Ringo’s insides were making all kinds of unnatural moves in his body, nauseating him to the point where he felt he really didn’t need to throw up. The three lads wanted him in. Him! A stupid, lazy, git who hadn’t even finished his school, but managed quite well on his right handed drum kid, even though he was left-handed. He could barely believe it.

            Ringo hadn’t been a band ever since that stupid band of his had left for Germany without him. Stupid wankers. This was just the way to make his old band mates suffer. They would make it. High to the top. With Paul’s smooth voice, both good for screaming as well as soft singing, and extremely good looks, John’s leadership, clever and witty comments, great, imposing appearance and hoarse voice, George’s near perfect guitar play and determination, they would get high up. All they needed to head where they were supposed to be going, was a drummer. A good, talented drummer with a tough image. Not him. But fuck… he wanted in.

            The three continued to stare at him, while all kinds of different thoughts raced through Ringo’s head. He didn’t have a clue what to say. He didn’t even know what his answer was. Sure, he wanted in. Badly. Really fucking badly. But he also saw that these three boys had talent. They were made for the music business. They would change the world. But… what about him. He was just normal. Nothing special. Maybe he would even hold them back… He really didn’t want that.

            ‘Rings? You okay?’ Paul asked suddenly. Paul had started to call him that after their little talk. Ringo looked up. He could see the confusion on John’s face. Ringo nodded weakly and managed a small smile.

‘If you don’t want to tha-’ George started, laying a hand on his boyfriend’s knee.

‘NO! No, I want to. It’s just…’ Ringo rubbed his temples, ‘I don’t know guys. I mean… You’re all fucking good and everything and I’m just me. I won’t ever be good enough.’

‘What kind of rubbish is that?!’ Paul exclaimed. John just remained silent and looked down at the ground.

‘Yeah! I heard you play. You’re drumming is fantastic.’ George said with a squeeze of his hand. Ringo smiled down at him and ruffled his hair, making George move away with a giggle.

‘I’m not good. I don’t even play right.’ He said with a sigh.

‘So? It will only make your drumming special and unique. Just do it!’ Paul encouraged. Ringo thought about it. They did say that his drumming was unusual. He just never thought that they had meant it in a good way.

‘Just do this one gig. See how it goes, okay?’ George pressed on. Ringo sighed and let himself fall back into the couch.

‘Ugh… fine. Might be fun. I want 25%’ he said.

‘Done.’ Paul said with a smile. Ringo smiled back at him. John still didn’t say anything.

            John closed the door behind him. It was cold outside. John zipped up his leather jacket completely and wrapped a wool scarf around his neck. He shivered when he felt a cold breeze creep in his clothing. He stuck his hands down, into the pockets of his jacket and started walking. He had been lucky to leave before Paul would’ve been back from the loo. The tension had been terrible. Even a dull knife could have cut it. John had seen Paul watching him, staring at him with wet eyes, when he thought John couldn’t see him. Why could he never just do anything right?! John bit his lower lip and looked down at the dirty ground. For a brief moment he thought about taking the bus home, but decided against it right away. A walk would do him good. It would help him clear his mind and think about the whole thing. Paul would never believe him when he told him what was going on. He knew that. Paul’s jealousy was sometimes even worse than his own! Paul’s shortcomings were always worse than his own when Paul was in one of his moods. And he was now. John had seen him. The boy had been devastated. Angry, sad, hurt, defeated. Defeated by Stuart Sutcliffe. The worst thing was, that Stuart hadn’t even really won. He had given up before that. Going off to Germany. Paul had handed him his victory without even knowing it. This whole mess was fucked up. John glanced at his watch. Stuart’s plane was leaving in an hour. The man had just come by to tell him, so he wouldn’t be able to object. Stuart really was a clever guy. But surely he hadn’t seen this coming. Not this. Wining by giving up. John shook his head and turned around the corner.

‘John!’ The sweet voice of his boyfriend filled his ears, ‘JOHN! WAIT UP!’ John looked up and turned around. Paul was running over to him, jacket open, scarf in his hands with his guitar. His nose was a little red from the cold. John felt the corners of his lips curl up at the sight. He felt tears form in his eyes, when he realised he couldn’t hold the younger man against him and warm him up, like he used to. Silently he hoped that Paul would just forget about everything that had been going on and jump in his arms, pressing his body against him, wrapping his arms around him, tangling his fingers in his hair and locking their lips together in a needy, sweet and loving kiss filled with lust and want for the other. Silently he hoped Paul would cry in his arms and tell him they could work it out and forget about everything. That he knew what the deal was with Stuart and him and that it had all been a test. Silently he hoped that Paul would let him explain and forgive him for everything. For the letters with Stuart and for his stupidity.  That he would have him. That everything would be fine within these next five minutes.

But his hopes were blown away with the mean laughter of the wind. His boyfriends face was completely red, his eyebrows were crooked and his hands bawled into fists. Yet there was still something of false hope deep within the older man. That too had faded when Paul slapped him hard across his cheek leaving a red mark on his cheek. It stung. But John couldn’t move. He was frozen to the ground. He couldn’t even make out a sound.

            ‘You’re one hell of an arsehole, you know that! You fucking cock-loving arse-licker!’ Paul screamed at him, ‘How dare you! I should have known shouldn’t I? I should have known that you, the great John Winston Lennon had just crawled back onto his knees to that slut! Was it all a joke then, John? Was just some kind of sick game to you? Or have you and Stuart been planning this and laughing behind my back about how I was falling for it? I’m happy your back with that whore of a Sutcliffe. You two are really made for each other. You _deserve_ each other! And besides, John Winston Lennon doesn’t fall for little boys, does he?’ Paul continued. John couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t breathe. The words stung him. Like a dragger that was being repeatedly impaled into his back, piercing his lungs and insides. _I didn’t mean it!_ John thought desperately. Another hard slap.

            When John could finally move and speak again, Paul had gone. Wind was blowing around his ears, rain had started to fall down on his shoulders, causing him to be drenched to the bone. Fuck…


	7. Chapter 7

It took John a few minutes before he could move again. His cheek stung painfully. Paul had slapped him. He had actually slapped him. Twice! John slowly moved his fingers to his hurtful cheek. He caressed it gently, but still he hissed at the contact. The sky burst open with a loud crack of thunder, letting big drops of water fall down at an incredible tempo. John didn’t care much if he got wet. His feet began to move, faster and faster with every step he took until he was running. Running quickly across the streets and small alleys of Liverpool, water splashing up and into his shoes every time he stepped in a pool of dirty rainwater. His socks became soggy and stuck to his feet uncomfortably, but John didn’t care. He had to talk to Paul. He had to explain. It couldn’t just end like this. Not now Stuart had left and left him, no them, alone, to give them a chance. Not now he finally had to opportunity to relax and be with the one who he adored and cared for the most. It had always been Paul, he realised. Paul had always been the one for whom he cared and felt for the most. And now he wasn’t going to let him go that easily.

            John didn’t know where he feet were taking him. He didn’t even know where Paul was, but he could feel his feet knew. He could feel he was getting closer and closer. His hard sped up and his hand started to sweat. John wiped  a few drops of water from his forehead and turned a corner. He didn’t recognize the street. But he did recognize one thing. Or someone, rather. John wiped across his forehead again, brushing his hair away, getting a clearer view.

‘Paul!’ he shouted loudly into the open air. The scream was broken up by the dark sound of thunder, booming through the air.

‘PAUL!’ John shouted again, louder this time. He could see the dark figure of his boyfriend come to a hold. A smile crept onto his face. His feet began to run again, closer and closer to the dark figure, who was now slowly turning around to him.

‘Paul…’ John breathed. Another loud crash of thunder.

‘What do you want, John?’ Paul asked, his voice as cold as the air surrounding them, ‘I thought I’d made myself clear enough. Or are you really that  thick?’

‘Paul, please. Let me explain. It’s not as you think.’ John breathed, leaning with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. He didn’t know how long he had been running, but it felt as if both his lungs and his legs were on fire.

‘Isn’t it always, John? It’s never what I think, is it?’ Paul replied as coldly as before.

‘Paul, please…’ John nearly begged.

‘Please, what?’

‘Please, listen. All I am asking for is for you to listen to me. It’s all I want. I know I pretty much fucked up. With the letters and everything. I should have told you, but please, let me tell you now. Let me explain. Please listen to me…’ John asked. Paul looked down at the man in front of him, who was still catching his breath.  John could see that pain and coldness in Paul’s eyes. He could see he was angry. He needed Paul to listen to him. It couldn’t end. Not like this. Never like this.

‘I’ve done enough of that already, John. But you never seem to listen to me. So I’m not going to listen to you, now. It won’t make a difference. I _know_ what I’ve seen. And it’s pathetic you are trying to talk yourself out of it. I’ve done enough of listening to you, John.’ Paul replied before turning his back on him. John looked down at the wet ground. He had to convince Paul to listen to him. If only they both weren’t that stubborn. He let himself fall down onto his knees with a thud. The sound, making Paul look behind him.

‘If you listen to me now. I won’t bother you again. Never again. If that’s what you want. But please. Listen. If this is how it ends, then I want you to know the truth. I think that’s fair to us both.’ John muttered more than spoke. He looked up at the younger man in front of him.

‘Please, don’t waste my time.’ Paul said with a sigh.

‘I won’t. I promise.’ Was John’s reply.

‘Well, you already did.’ Paul spoke before turning around and walking away.

‘Stuart is leaving! For Germany! Please, Paul! It’s not what you think!’ John yelled after him, but Paul wouldn’t listen.

             Paul was lying on his bed, music playing loudly in order to hide his cries. His lips were red and puffy, like his eyes. Paul wondered why this seemed to happen so many time since he had met John at the fete some odd years ago.

‘James, please. Open the door for me. Tell me what’s wrong. You’ve been acting like this for some days now. Please just tell me. I could help you.’ His father called for him at the other side of the locked door. He was banging loudly with his fists on the door. Paul didn’t know why he still bothered with the music. Surely the whole street knew now that something was wrong.

‘LEAVE ME ALONE!’ Paul cried out for the umpteenth time, tears from both hurt and tiredness streaming from his face and onto the already slightly damp pillow on which his head rested.

‘James, please. I worry about you.’ His father called again.

‘Just fucking go away!’ Paul replied yet again, ‘Just fucking leave…’

‘No, Paul. Mary wouldn’t have left, so neither will I!’ Paul heard his father call. It made him stop crying immediately.

            ‘Dad, me and John had a fight.’ Paul spoke to the ground. His father was sitting next to him, hand on his shoulder.

‘You have had more fights, didn’t you? Why so upset?’ His father asked. Paul shook his head. He had to tell him. He didn’t have a choice. Maybe his father would love him all the same, no matter what. But Paul doubted that.

‘It’s complicated.’ Paul replied with a sniffle.

‘Try me.’ Jim spoke to his son in a reassuring way. A chuckle followed.

‘You won’t like it.’

‘Try me.’ Jim repeated, giving his son’s shoulder a squeeze.

            ‘Dad, don’t get mad. Please, don’t. Promise you won’t get mad and that you love me no matter what.’ Paul asked his father. He looked up at him with hopeful red, wet and swollen eyes from the crying.

‘Of course. Don’t worry. I promise. I love you, no matter what.’ Jim answered with a smile. Paul bit his lip.  Was he really going to tell his dad he was queer. For John? The man who he despised. Who was such a bad influence on his precious son. Paul snorted at the thought. Bad influence alright, nicking records, skip classes, Rock ‘n Roll music, bad language, fuck everyone, both literally as figuratively, kissing other blokes… No, John really wasn’t the kind of girl who Jim McCartney had in mind for his eldest son. Not one bit. Paul bit his lip harder. Shit… He was going to tell his dad that he was doing something a lot more illegal than just nicking a few records. This could get you into jail. Right away.

‘Dad I’m…’ Paul started. He mouthed the words, but no sound came out. Jim moved his hand from his son’s shoulder to his back and began to draw soothing circles there, making Paul feel much more relaxed.

‘I… I believe I’m… I like… Dad, I fan-…’ He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t say it. _I’m queer_. Three simple words. Yet so wrong and terrifying to say.

‘I’m…’ _queer_ Paul said in his head.

‘Paul, take a deep breath. I won’t be mad. Just tell me.’ Jim pushed his son gently.

‘I fancy… L…’ Paul couldn’t get it passed his lips. He felt tears burn behind his eyes, his throat was dry and breathing and speaking hurt, making it terrible to talk.

‘I… Boys…’ Paul croaked out.

‘Paul… shhh… relax. Just tell me. What’s with boys? Do you get teased at school? Are there boys being mean to you?’ Jim asked. Paul buried his head in his hands. Being mean was somewhat part of it, but maybe not in the way his dad meant.

‘Dad, I’m… I… I’m… Fancy… Boys.’ Paul managed to stammer. Lose words, being easier than a full sentence that would’ve made sense.

‘Paul… Slowly now… What are you saying?’ Jim asked, not sure he had understood his son properly. No son of his actually fell for boys.  

‘I’m queer.’ Paul spoke, his breath stocking right after, himself already ducking away from the expected blows from his dad. But none came.

‘I fancy boys.’ Paul repeated softly. Jim’s heart stopped beating for a couple of seconds, and he felt his insides get all cold. This wasn’t happening, was it? Surely Paul was just joking.

‘You sure?’ He asked. Paul nodded.

‘Pretty sure, yeah.’ He answered.

‘Bugger.’ Paul rarely heard his dad swear. He felt terrible. Relieved, but terrible.

            ‘Who?’ His father’s voice came after  a few moments. Paul froze. He had come this far, he’d better get it all out now, right? Besides, his dad hadn’t thrown him out of the house yet. Fuck! What if he did. What if he would throw him out. Where would he go? To John? Not bloody likely. He had had enough of him. George? Maybe. If he would have him. But he would try to talk him into seeing John again. Making up with him. It would only tire him out. And he never wanted to see John again. He could just go back to that fucking slut. Fuck him. Paul hoped to God that his dad wouldn’t throw him out. He didn’t have anywhere to go. Shit…

‘Who James?’ Jim repeated. Paul swallowed thickly.

‘John…’ He croaked out. He bit the insides of his mouth, afraid of how his father would react.

‘I knew that terrible lad had a bad influence on you. I shouldn’t have let you be around him. I should have…’

‘No!’ Paul interrupted his father, ‘This isn’t John’s fault dad! Please… I can’t…. fuck… I… I fucking can’t…’ Paul broke down into tears again. He couldn’t deal with it. How dare his dad talk about him like that. None of this was John’s fault. If anyone was to blame it was him for getting so hung up about the rough teddy boy who broke anyone’s heart, it was him. But… He loved him… He loves him… fuck… _I love him._

            Paul began to shake when his dad wrapped his arms around his son. Tears were once again streaming down his chubby, red cheeks. It made you wonder how long you could cry until your tears ran out _. I love him… I still do. After all of this… And now it was over…_

‘Shh… It’s okay. I’m not mad, okay… It’s alright…’ His dad soothed him. Though his voice was hoarse and had a hint of anger in it, Paul knew it wasn’t addressed to him. It was for the one who had broken his son’s poor, young, innocent heart.

‘I love him, dad…’ Paul croaked out between sobs, ‘And now… He’s… He’s gone… Fuck… I love him… I can’t believe… shit… He’s gone now… But… I want him… so badly… Shit…’ Paul breathed, trying to calm himself down and stop crying already. His father began to rock him from the left to the right and back  again in a lazy, comforting rhythm. He held him closely against his chest, hands holding him tightly.

‘Shhh… It’s okay… Just relax…’ He whispered into his son’s hair, ‘I’m here…’

            Paul slowly began to relax in his dad arms, still muttering confessions under his breath about his love for John. He really did still love him. He had to talk to him. But John wouldn’t let him. He knew that. Not after what he had done. Why hadn’t he just listened to him. Why had he been so stubborn and stupid. He loved the bugger. Fuck.

‘Feeling better?’ His dad asked softly, placing a simple kiss on top of his head. Paul nodded and wiped his tears away.

‘Suppose…’ He croaked out. He felt his dad smile.

‘I’m sorry…’ He spoke softly.

‘Hmm? What for?’

‘Being queer. I really… I’m so sorry… I know it’s not what you wanted me to be… I know you wanted to see me get married, have kids… I’m so sorry… I… I can’t help it… I tried, you know. I tried to change. To make the thoughts go away. I really did. I didn’t mean to… I’m so sorry…’

‘Paul, sweetie, there’s nothing to be sorry about.’ His father interrupted his son.

‘What?  B-but… I’m queer. I can go to prison because of this. I…’

‘Paul, I don’t care. You are my son and I love you, no matter who you love. Even if it is that Lennon boy. I know you never choice to have this life. I know you’re not stupid. You know what kind of hardships being queer brings. You know life would be so much easier if you just married a nice girl. But you also know that you wouldn’t be happy then. You can’t choice who you fancy. If you could life would be so much easier, don’t you think?’ His dad told him. Paul nodded.

‘Suppose…’

‘Paul, I love you even if you do want to share your bed with a lad. But please consider the consequences.’ His dad continued.

‘But I thought… You were okay… with this thing…’ Paul stammered, confused.

‘No, I mean… Don’t get carried away. I don’t mind of you have a relationship with a boy, but please, please be careful. Don’t get taken away. Mind what you do, to whom and with whom around. I don’t want to see you going to prison. Or worse.’ His dad quickly explained. Paul swallowed thickly. “or worse…” Paul knew what his dad meant. He had heard the stories. Men being murdered or tortured for loving other men. Paul knew the stories. They scared him. Terribly. Jim gave his son a reassuring squeeze with his arm.

‘Please… be careful. I don’t want anything to happen to you.’ He nearly begged.

‘I will, don’t worry. I’m a clever enough lad.’ Paul promised. His dad muttered a thank you, into his dark brown hair.

_Tell me_.

Paul read the little note two times before looking up. He looked around the room. It was study hour. Meaning a whole lot of different pupils being put together into one little room, being forced to do their homework, and if you didn’t have any, that was your own problem. But hell would break loose if you weren’t working on school work. Even if it was only for one minutes, because you had to think about what to do next, now that you finished everything for the coming six years. However, it wasn’t all bad. These were the only classes he shared with George, who, being one year younger, was one year under him. It were the best two hours of the week.

_About what?_

Paul quickly scribbled his reply before handing it to the girl next to him with a wink, so she’d give it to George. She rolled with her eyes, pretending to be annoyed, but the sparkle in her blue eyes and the pink blush on her cheeks gave her way. Paul watched as George unfolded the paper. Now he _did_ mean it when he rolled with his eyes. Paul looked back into his math book. He jumped up in his chair when he felt the bird’s nail teasing his skin.

_You and John of course. I saw him yesterday. Seemed pretty damn fucked._

Paul felt his insides tangle together painfully. He had known this was coming. He swallowed thickly before turning the paper around and writing a reply.

_Probably met up with Stuart._

Paul wasn’t proud of himself, but he couldn’t help it. This was the only way for him to get over this pain and his love for John. Because fuck… it was hard.

_Low, mate. Very low. Besides, Stuart has gone. Didn’t you know?_

Paul stared at the little note with big eyes. What did George mean? Stuart had gone? To where? When? What about John? Everything really was fucked up.

_No. Tell me._

Paul handed the note back to the girl, who winked back at him. Paul gave her a weak smile. Shit, now she expected something. He’d snog her later in the hall. Just to keep her as a friend. She might have to hand over more notes. Could be useful, that girl. He quickly looked back into his books when he heard the teacher clear his throat. His hands were still sore from the class before. Teachers didn’t really seem to care when you didn’t do your homework because someone had just broken your heart into a million little pieces and set them on fire. Another couple of slaps with a ruler onto his hands would probably mean he wouldn’t be able to play that day. It took George a full five minutes before he answered.

_I thought you’d know. Since you saw them saying goodbye. For a very long time. Maybe even forever. Who’d know._

Paul felt like he was thrown into a bucket of ice water. He didn’t get it. They’d said goodbye? When? Surely he hadn’t been there.

_When was that?_

_Are you stupid? The day we took Ringo in the band, you fool. Stuart left that day. Or at least that’s what he had told John. He’s still here. At home of course, packing the last of this things. His boot will be leaving this evening. He wanted to leave because he knew that the way he acted wasn’t fair to John, or you, or himself. He’s gotten into this art college in Germany. Hamburg I think it was._

Paul felt so stupid. He felt like he was going to cry. John and Stuart… They had… He left? For good? To give him and John a real chance. They had said goodbye? And not made up? But how about those letters? Paul’s head was spinning. This wasn’t seriously happening. He hadn’t just ruined his chances with John because had thought he’d seen something which he hadn’t. He hadn’t just… Fuck… The worst thing was, was that he couldn’t even blame Stuart. He should have listened to John. He should have known that John wouldn’t have done something like that.

_Shit._

It was the only reply that Paul could come up with. It summed pretty much everything up, though.

‘Mr McCartney. Would you be so kind to stop flirting with Miss Jones and start working on your homework.’ The teacher called at him just when he handed the note to the girl. The class burst out in laughter. Paul looked up at the girl, who was now really blushing and looking at him with those eyes. Fuck…

‘Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.’ Paul answered quickly before turning back to his books.

‘Thank you.’ The teacher, whose name Paul couldn’t remember, said. Paul nodded and solved a couple of problems. Fifteen minutes passed before Paul felt the birds nails on his skin again. Why did she do that? Paul didn’t get it. He took the note from her with a sweet smile. The bird blushed and quickly looked down into her books again. Paul rolled with his eyes and unfolded the paper, watching his teacher to be sure he wouldn’t get caught again. He was only a look away from another beating with that ruler. When he was certain the coast was clear, he looked down and read.

_Talk to Stuart. Or John, but I doubt he’ll explain anything after what you did._

Paul bit his lip. George was right. He could make it all up again. He just had to talk to Stuart. Stuart had to explain, so Paul could talk to John. John would probably appreciate it if he had talked to Stuart about everything. Something to do with adulthood. Oh, and he had to take care of a couple of other things. Paul grinned to himself as his mind drifted off to his talk with Ringo.

_I will._

* * *

 

Paul stumbled along the docks, his head snapping from the one side to other, eyes moving rapidly in their sockets, hands in his pockets, feet moving quickly, making it appear like he was running. He wasn’t. He was just in a hurry. He had to find Stuart. Had to. He didn’t have a choice.

            Paul had skipped his last classes. They weren’t much interesting or important anyways. No one would notice him gone. And those who did, knew better than telling on him. They didn’t have to know that John probably wouldn’t beat them up anymore.

            He walked quickly, turned around a corner and peeked over the big dumpster that was blocking his view. He had to find the right boat. Or ship. Whatever. He didn’t have that much time left. According to George, Stuart was due leaving at two forty-five. And if Paul knew sailors, they wouldn’t leave one second later. Paul sighed. No, not that one. Why were there so many ships docked here? Paul moved on.

            It took Paul another fifteen minutes before he finally found the ship to Hamburg. He hoped George had remembered correctly. He only had twenty minutes left. And he still had to find Stu and talk to him. Never once in his life had Paul expected he’d ever be so desperate to find this guy. He quickly ran over to the ship. He noticed a few people staring at him, probably finding his behaviour more than a little odd, but he didn’t care. When he was close enough he spotted a man, about seven years his senior, carrying a large trunk to the boat. Or ship. Surely he’d know where Stuart was. They _were_ on the shame ship, after all. Paul smiled to himself and ran over to the guy.

            ‘Sorry?’ Paul asked when he was near enough, ‘Could you help me with something?’ Paul tried to sound as politely as possible. Which was hard, seeing the only thing he could think about was finding Stuart. The young men turned around to him. Paul couldn’t help but notice the man was rather good looking. Nice healthy tan, broad shoulders and a handsome face with a slight stubble. His eyes were an enchanting shade of green. Moss like, Paul thought it was.

‘What’d ya want kid?’ The man asked with a friendly chuckle.

‘I’m looking for a friend of mine. He’s supposed to leave with this ship to Hamburg.’ Paul explained. The man put down his obviously heavy bag with a groan and looked at Paul.

‘Well, ya are at the right address here, I guess. Not many ships to Hamburg around ‘ere, you know.’ The man said. Paul smiled back at him.

‘I was just wondering if you’d seen him?’ He spoke. The man folded his arms together and looked Paul up and down, like he was studying him.

‘What does ‘e  look like, then? Tough blond? He’s on the deck.’ The man said. Paul shook his head with a chuckle.

‘No. Dark brown hair, slender, wears sunglasses all the time.’ Paul said. He felt his heart slow down to a normal speed when he saw the corners of the man’s mouth curl up in a cheeky grin.

‘Oh, ‘im… sure I remember ‘im. Good lad, he is. Good looking too,’ The man replied, ‘Does he really never takes his shades off?’ Paul laughed and shook his head before leaning closer.

‘No. I’ve seen him sleeping with them once or twice, actually.’ He said. The man burst out in laughter. It was a happy, cheerful, kind of laughter. Very nice.

‘Can I talk to him? Is he around here somewhere?’ Paul asked the man nodded and leaned closer.

‘I’ll tell ya if ya hand me a smoke.’ He said with a wink. Paul chuckled and shook his head while he reached inside his pocket. He still had a few left. And if that was all it took. Paul lit a smoke and handed it to him. The guy thanked him a took a drag.

‘He’s in his cabin. Number twelve. Three doors next to mine. Lovely lad, he is.’

‘Thank you!’ Paul returned before running off onto the ship.

            Paul searched the numbers on the door. Number twelve, the man had said it was, right? Paul turned another corner. Cabin number twenty. How many cabins did this ship have? Paul shot a quick look at his watch just another fifteen minutes. He really did have to hurry. Nineteen, eighteen, seventeen, sixteen, fifteen, turn left corner, thirty-six, thirty-seven, definitely wrong turn, turn around, fourteen, thirteen, ah twelve! Paul quickly grabbed the doorknob and turned it. He didn’t have time of knocking. This was his only chance.

            There was a high pitched scream when Paul pushed the door open in one big swing.

‘Ahh, knock will ya! I’m bloody naked ‘ere. Jesus.’ Some unknown man shrieked as he grabbed a towel quickly and disappeared behind a door, which probably let to a bathroom or something. Paul froze in the door frame. This wasn’t Stuart. Stuart didn’t have blond hair. And he really wouldn’t have a pink towel.

‘Stu! There’s this guy. He yours?’ The guy with the little pink towel shouted again. Paul tensed up even more when he saw the door, behind which that guy had disappeared, open again a little wider.

‘Doubt it. Probably just me mum wanting to say goodbye.’ Paul heard Stuart’s voice shout back. His heart stopped. Within seconds the dark haired, sunglasses wearing, cool looking lad walked into the room. Both man’s breaths stocked when they saw each other.

‘Can’t be. A guy is a guy. Not your sweet mother.’ The man replied.

‘Yeah. I-I noticed.’ Stuart replied, in a slightly wobbly voice, while slowly taking off his shades. Paul managed a weak smile.

            ‘Hi.’ Stuart spoke after an awkward silence.

‘Hi.’ Paul answered. Not knowing what else to say. He hadn’t actually said anything nice to the lad these last couple of months. He hadn’t thought of how he was going to do this. What if Stuart didn’t want to talk to him. He could understand if he didn’t. Who would help someone who wanted nothing more than dance on your grave. Not literary, of course. Paul had never actually wished him dead and meant it. Just… as a figure of speech. He himself wouldn’t listen. He knew that much.

            ‘Who is it?’ The guy shouted suddenly, making both man jump slightly in shock. Stuart moved first, turning around.

‘No one. Just a friend.’ He replied. Paul bit his tongue. _Just a friend_. What the hell did that mean? Or was he just looking into things too much? Paul straightened himself when Stuart looked back at him with a frown.

‘What do you want?’ He asked him coldly, not trusting the young man at all. Paul sighed and took  a step closer to his boyfriend’s ex-boyfriend. 

‘You are leaving.’ He said, ‘For Germany.’ He should have planned on what to say before coming here. But then again, he was already short on time. Stuart would’ve been gone the moment he would have figured out what to say. Stuart flashed him a smile.

‘No shit, Sherlock.’ He replied before turning around and sitting down on one of the two very small beds in the tiny, mustard coloured cabin.

            ‘What do you want from me, then? Thought you’d be happy. Me gone. John all to yourself. That’s what you wanted right?’ Stuart continued coldly after another awkward silence. Paul could hear Stuart was still upset about this whole thing with John. But Paul couldn’t think any differently than thinking it was Stuart his own bloody fault. He cocked up. Ruined it. Paul didn’t have any pity for the guy. But he needed him now. However much Paul hated that, it was the sad truth.  

‘I want to talk to you about the letters.’ Paul spoke, not giving into Stuart’s little games, his teasing, his… whatever it was. He needed to know to truth and he only had little time. Besides, Paul didn’t give a shit what Stuart thought of him. He was surprised when Stuart sighed, apparently understand what he was on about, and petted next to him, offering Paul to sit down there. Paul took it. He slowly walked over, not trusting it completely.

‘Listen, Paul…’ Stuart started. Paul looked at the man hopefully as he sat down. Stuart rubbed his temples.

‘I don’t know what you’ve read, but… Shit Paul, I wasn’t myself when I wrote those letters. I know you don’t think of me like your friend, or even as a nice guy for that fact, but… I was John’s boyfriend once. I’m not all bad.’ He chuckled sadly, ‘I don’t know if you believe me when I tell you this, but… I… Those letters… I feel bad for doing that. To John, not to you. Sorry… I wasn’t myself, I felt hurt, lost. I didn’t know what to do. I felt guilty to John and I wanted to make it better. I missed him so much and being alone nearly drove me insane. I couldn’t think straight. I wanted John back and… I guess that by the time that I realised what I was doing, it was already too late.’ Paul didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t actually thought that Stuart would answer him this easily. Paul couldn’t help but ask himself briefly if he hadn’t over reacted.

‘John never answered me. Unless I insulted you. I send him a note, asking if he would come over, I guess I was drunk then because I can hardly remember it, and he did… but not for the reason I had hoped. He screamed at me, telling me to leave him the fuck alone and that he was happy with you. It’s the only thing I can remember, him screaming. I have no idea what I said. I guess I passed out shortly after on the couch. I know that because he left me a note, telling me that I had to sort my bloody life out. And that’s what I did. I never talked to him again, never wrote him again, never called, never watched him anymore from a distant when he was with you. I just… I locked myself in my room and cried for three days. After that I took a long cold shower, had some great breakfast and went to school. I would see John in the hallway and I would walk the other way, I couldn’t stand facing him again. After a few days I wouldn’t see him or you at all anymore. I had heard you guys were having problems, but I decided to leave it. Knowing that I wouldn’t be able to control myself if I saw my change. But when I heard that the fight was about those letters, that it was my fault that John was yet again unhappy, I decided it was enough and that I would leave Liverpool. First I wanted to go to some place in England, but then I heard about this art college in Hamburg through school and I applied. I got in and now I’m leaving. I wanted to talk to John one last time, telling him I couldn’t stay here any longer and make him unhappy. That I was leaving. Maybe even for good. I was hoping that you would see us say goodbye and that you would talk it all over. But… I guess the effect was entirely different. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to leave if I didn’t know that things would be better between John and you, not because of you but because you somehow seem to make him happy, don’t know why, except that you have a pretty face, so I called George and told him what I had done. First he said he had had enough of it and didn’t want to have anything to do with it anymore. But… well… I convinced him. You know what happened then.’ Stuart turned his head to Paul and smiled weakly, nearly apologetic and ashamed for what he had done. Paul blinked a few times. He hadn’t been here that long, had only said about ten words and Stuart… had told him everything already. His brain could hardly take in all the information. And wait… What? Pretty face?

‘Paul, I know this might seem crazy, but… it’s the truth. I’m sorry I came between you and John. That I couldn’t just let him be happy with you. I guess I just couldn’t stand that you finally won from me. Like it was a silly little game. Though, I know it was much more. That’s also the reason why I’m telling you this right now. I’m done with it. I wanted John to be happy. With me, of course, but… Well… If you are what makes him happy… then I’ll leave.  I know when I’m not needed.’ The older man next to him continued. Paul nodded softly and ran his hand through his hair. He and John… John wasn’t back with Stu? He had pushed him away? He had actually stood up for him when Stuart spoke ill of him? But what about John’s coldness towards him? And the fact that he didn’t have sex with him?

‘Paul? I… I didn’t mean it… what I wrote about you and John. I know that… John, he… He explained it to me, Paul. Why he and you… you know… the whole… you know…’ Paul did know. Sex. He nodded.

‘He… He knew you hadn’t done anything yet with a lad that he was your first. He didn’t want to scare you. He didn’t want to force you or make you do something you thought you wanted or only did because he wanted it. Or that you would freak out, scared for… well…  I guess I don’t have to say it out loud. He… He truly cared about you Paul. So much that even just simple kids’ stuff was enough. I felt so jealous of you when I heard that.’ The older man laughed softly. Paul’s head was spinning. John… he cared about him so much that he wouldn’t force him? That he wasn’t even going to bring it up because he was afraid that he would freak? John cared about him that much? Paul felt absolutely terrible now. He should have trusted him. And now… Paul hadn’t a clue what John’s feelings were about all this. Was he angry? Sad? Paul took his head in his hands and stared at the ground. Everything was so fucked up. Why did he always have to draw stupid conclusions. Why hadn’t he just talked to him when he had found that note. Why hadn’t he just left that one lying there on the bedside table when John had told him it was nothing? But… why hadn’t John talked to him about it? Paul would have understood what it was all about then. Right?

‘Why didn’t he tell me? About those letters, I mean.’ He heard himself ask. Stuart sighed and stood up from the bed. Paul didn’t look up.

‘He thought of it as nothing. That this was between me and him. That… I don’t know Paul… To be honest, I wouldn’t care much if I were you. He just wanted to protect you I guess. He didn’t want to hurt you or make you worry about nothing. Or that’s what I think anyway. But… if you really want to know, why don’t you ask him?’ Paul felt his heart stop for a brief moment. Fuck, he had to talk to John. He had to  tell him he was sorry for being such a git and that he hadn’t trusted him. He had to talk to John. Fuck…

‘Talk to him, Paul. Please, don’t cock it up. Don’t let it all go a waste. I don’t want to leave for nothing, Paul. Understand me?’ Paul nodded.

‘I understand you.’ His voice was already wobbly. Fuck…

            Paul stumbled across the street over to John’s house at Menlove Avenue. He really didn’t feel like going to be honest. He felt terrible. It had all been his fault. There really hadn’t been anything going on. He had just jumped right into conclusions instead of talking to John. He should have talked to John. No, he should have trusted John in the first place.  He should have left it after John had called to tell him about the gig, because John would have said something if there had been something going on. Or he should have at least asked. But why hadn’t John asked him why he was acting like that? He could have told him after he had gotten angry. He could have told him that Stuart and him weren’t together and that what he had seen was just them saying goodbye. He could have… _Fuck,_ Paul thought as he realised that John had tried to. Only two days ago John had been on his knees _begging_ him to listen to him and that he had it all wrong. John never _begged._ Why hadn’t he fucking listened? Why did he have to be so fucking stubborn? Why did he always think he knew what was going on? He knew why. He had been angry. Paul pretty much hated himself right now. If he had just asked what that note was after he had found it, none of this would have happened. Or better still, not having read that note in the first place. John had said it was nothing. Paul angrily kicked a rock away as he called himself a twat in his head.  

            John felt himself get drowsy and his mind get fuzzy from the alcohol. He shouldn’t have drunk that much. But he had had a reason to do so. To even continue it now. Paul had left him. He was certain of it. Paul hadn’t actually said it was over, but he didn’t have to. He could tell. The way Paul had looked at him, had talked to him, had walked away. Like he was disgusted by him. Paul had had a sad, patronizing glance in his eyes that rainy day, the last day John had seen or even heard of Paul. It was truly over now. Paul wouldn’t ever want to talk to him again, he didn’t even want to look at him anymore. He lost him. His partner, his friend, his brother in a way, the best guitarist John knew, his, to use that terrible girly word that John had come to despise, boyfriend. Because Paul had been so much more than his boyfriend. So much more. And now he was gone. Forever. John thought that was a pretty good reason to drink his brains out.

            He opened his eyes and stared at the dark yellow coloured pint in front of him. He couldn’t even remember how many of those he had been drinking. And he didn’t really care enough to find out. He sat up in his seat, pushing himself up from the counter with his wobbly arms, before he grabbed the pint and drank it all down, letting a bit drop down his face and onto the dark wood that was all over the pub. He couldn’t even drink properly anymore, that’s who drunk he was. John swallowed and put the glass back down. Immediately a new one was popped under his nose. John frowned and started to examine it, touching it with his hands and tongue as he eyes it up close. He heard someone chuckle besides him. He didn’t recognise the voice. It was low, ruff (probably from the smoking) and breathy with a heavy accent. Something posh. London maybe. John put his chin on the counter and turned his head to the voice. He saw something blurry that looked like a man. Blond hair, blue eyes, or so he guessed, square face, slight stubble. The man’s eyebrows were thick and furry. He wore a white shirt, sleeves rolled up halfway his biceps. He smiled at John and waved at him with his fingers. John grinned drunkenly.

            ‘Whoare youthen?’ He asked in a drunken slur. Fuck he really was drunk. Fucking Paul with his perfect body and sweet personality but no way he ever fucking listening. Fuck him. All his fault he was drunk. Fucking git.

‘You shouldn’t drink that much. Doesn’t suit you.’ The man spoke back. John giggled.

‘That’s whyou’le buying me dlink.’  He spoke, not able to say the “r” anymore. The man’s smile changed. John noticed. It looked somewhat pitiful.

‘Looked like you needed it, mate.’ He answered. John  nodded and let his head roll a few time from the left to the right and back before sitting up again.

‘Still aven’t answwerd me.’ He slurred as he poked the man in his chest. He was marvelled at how muscular the man seemed to be. Paul would have listened to him if wasn’t this fat and looked muscular. Like him.

‘I’m Davy.’ The man answered with a chuckle as John stared at his finger that had bounced right back from the man’s chest. John looked up at him a playful smile.

‘Davy Jones. Likethe pilate.  ’He said with a giggle, ‘The Flying Dutchman.’ The man chuckled again and shook his head “no”.

‘No. Davy Painter. Though my grandfather was Dutch.’ He said. John nodded.

‘Well, Davy partly Dutchman… thanks fol thepint.’ He said and he took a big gulp from the offered drink.

The man nodded politely before leaning in closer.

‘So? What’s got you worked up, eh? Some girl stood you up?’ He asked. John nodded and drank some more, loving how the alcohol warmed him up from the inside out. Like Paul used to. Not anymore. His hands didn’t get clammy  anymore when he thought about him. It was just hot. He was merely sweating.

            ‘Hmm.’ Was the reply he gave the man next to him.

‘Well. Drinking isn’t the answer, is it?’ Davy replied. John shrugged.

‘Itakesuggestions intoconsideration.’ He slurred again, trying to make himself sound more audible. He failed, though the man seemed to understand him. The man nodded and leaned even closer.

‘Go out. Find a new quick bird or something. Girls aren’t to cry about. You deserve better, I’m sure. No one is worth it get drunk on.’ He said. John scoffed.

‘She left me.. Thinkin’ I went sleeping with another.. who cheated on me. Me ex.’ John told him. The man cocked an eyebrow.

‘You went sleeping with your ex who cheated on you?!’ He asked in surprise.

‘NO-o!’ John said with a long dragging voice, he added a chuckle at the end, ‘She thought I di.’ He corrected him, ‘Ex maygo fuckather blokes.’ John said, not yet drunk enough to slip that he was having problem with a bloke and not a girl. Two blokes for that fact. Even worse. No, he wouldn’t make that mistake.

‘Me girly won’t listen.’ John added, ‘Lef me wiout eplaintion.’ He took another sip, getting angry from the inside. Both from Paul and this guy. Why didn’t he understand. It wasn’t that hard!  Fucking dim loser.

            ‘Girl’s aren’t worth it. There just dim and egocentric.’ Davy whispered into John’s ear. John raised an eyebrow. ‘Fucking whores, the both of them. I bet, the dumb cow didn’t even know what she had in those dirty claws of hers.’ Now John got really angry. How dare this man insult Paul just like that! Though, the bastard stood him up, left him all alone without giving him a change, he wasn’t stupid. Paul wasn’t a cow and certainly didn’t have _claws_. Paul was… something near and yet far from perfection… lovely, smart, clever, beautiful, caring… he understood John in more ways than anyone. Than himself… And was what hurt the most. How dare this man insult Paul like that. His dear Macca. The man had no right. Paul was wonderful. Stupid arse. John bawled his hands into fists, ready to hit the man straight in the face if he said one more thing about Paul. He stayed still in his chair, waiting for the man to either go away or say something that wouldn’t make his face look anymore pretty.

‘Girls aren’t as cracked up as you think, young man. Dirty, stupid, giggly, annoying… They don’t understand you the way boys do. They’re not even good. I have a proposition for you, my dear boy. Because… I don’t like to see beautiful boys like you get hurt. You know what. If you come back to mine, or even just here somewhere, I’ll let you know what real pleasure is. What it’s like to be blown real good. Girls can’t do that. That stupid little cunt of yours… won’t ever be as good. And fucking a bloke… bet she didn’t even let you, did she?’ The man continued. John’s head shot to the other man, face angry, mind set on killing. No one spoke bad about Paul, or his skills in bed. Paul had been fantastic that one time. It seemed so long ago now. Messy, bad technique, but fuck… damn hot and so good. And besides, was the man seriously trying to get him to sleep with him now?

‘What?!’ John asked suddenly not slurring anymore.

‘No need to be afraid. I won’t hurt you. You’ll love it. I bet it one hundred time better than that slack you call your girlfriend.’ John’s jaw dropped. He was! And when did John call Paul his girlfriend? And Paul wasn’t a slack! The man leaned in closer and breathed hot ear into his ear. Why did it feel so much better when Paul did that? Why did it make him feel nauseous now and when Paul did it, he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to hold back?

            The man started whispering.

‘Come on and let me play a bit of that lovely body of yours.’ That’s when John had enough. He raised his fist and he saw the man’s eyes widen with fear as he saw John’s fist. John spat in the man’s face before pushing his fist straight into the man’s face.

‘Don’t ever fucking insult her again! You fucking pathetic cock-loving arse-licker! Now fuck off before I’ll call the cops on you!’ John warned, half feeling bad for the man because he knew how terribly hard it was to pick up lads. He had tried something like this once, but didn’t actually go as far as insulting. He’d been understanding. And that quick blowjob in the toilets proved that that was a way better technique. John hadn’t even realised the man had fell to the ground, holding onto his nose as he cried out in pain. Blood was flowing from it, John saw as the man stood back up. The man’s eyes were dark with anger. Fuck… John thought to himself. And before he knew it the man hit him too, right under his jaw, nearly breaking it. John fell backward, his head banging against another stool as he leaned on the cold, hard, dirty floor. His mind stopped working for a second and he couldn’t move, the alcohol having had far more effect than John had thought. Then there was hard kick. Right in his groin. John groaned and flipped over before curling up into the foetus position. His head was banging with pain, his jaw was tight and hurt like hell and he had no feeling whatsoever in his groin, like the man had kicked his goods all the way across the stinky pub.

            ‘You’ll be sorry for this.’ The man said before spitting in his face and kicking his leg hard one more time, making John yelp quietly. His head and eyelids got heavy. Everything around him became a blur. John could even hear his blood pump in his ear. Slowly but surely everything started to get darker. John saw the man ran away, being followed by some tough guys that looked like they could do some damage.

            Suddenly he heard someone scream out his name. It sounded familiar, but it was too far away to hear who it was exactly. He looked around the room quickly, trying to find out where the sound came from. But it was too late. Another shout and another scream. John saw something brown in front of him but he couldn’t see what, or who, it was, his vision being already to blurry. The shape, that was hardly a shape, moved and made some noises that sounded like rapid talking, but John couldn’t understand it. He let his eyes close briefly, letting everything around him get black and quiet. 

* * *

 

John’s head was pounding, his whole body hurt, and he couldn’t see. He tried to move, but he couldn’t. Pain shot through his body like lightning. He wanted to cry out, but he couldn’t make a sound, or even part his lips. His mind started to work again, slowly making connections as he tried to recall what had happened the night before. He stayed quiet and let his whole body relax.

            He couldn’t remember shit from last night, John realised after a minute. He did remember he was at a pub at some point. Probably drinking his arse off. Fuck, he had had bad hangovers but this… He felt like his head was going to explode. It was terrible. And why couldn’t he still see? He tried to move a little, get a bit more comfortable, but his leg protested loudly at the movements and his head really felt like it was cracking open as he tried to move it. He groaned. Suddenly he felt something move against him. Something warm, familiar… Someone was lying next to him on the bed. _Fuck…_ He thought as saw a picture of some guy in his twenties, blond, blue eyes, white shirt, shot past in his head. He hadn’t slept with him, did he? That would be terrible. What would Paul think?! Another fuck and a groan…

            It took John three minutes before he realised that his eyes were already open. It was just pitch black in… wherever he was. He hoped his own bed, home. It felt like his own bed. But he had promised Mimi never to take dates home. She was going to kill him if that blond guy was indeed sleeping next to him. John’s heard skipped a beat as he suddenly felt an arm being draped across his chest, hand gripping his shoulder. He turned his head to looked at the hand, hoping to recognize it. There was even more sharp pain, but John tried to ignore it. But he couldn’t see the hand and soon he felt himself get dizzy. He turned his head back and cringed from the pain as he let his head rest back into the pillow. This wasn’t just a hangover. He remembered this kind of pain. He had been in a fight. But… with whom? Maybe the guy… No, no-one would be stupid enough to make that mistake. There were a lot of guys, as well as girls, who wanted nothing more than seeing every queer locked up safely in tiny little disgusting cells. John closed his eyes and tried to relax until the pain would leave. What the fuck happened last night?

            The next time John opened his eyes again, some time had passed. Some weak morning light crept through the curtains and into his bedroom, giving it a light shine. He turned his head without thinking and whined at the aggressive pounding, but it wasn’t as bad as before. He wanted to raise his hand to hold his head, but decided against it quickly as he heard a very familiar groan next to him. Low, croaky and singsong-like. The young man’s voice sounded like melted chocolate in John’s ear. He wondered briefly where that terrible thought came from before turning his head completely to the young man next to him. A smile crept onto his face, before reality struck him.

‘Paul…’ He muttered as he watched the young man sleep with wide eyes.

            John stared at the young boy, who was lying fast asleep, curled up next to him on the bed, as he stroked his soft locks softly. John knew this was just a dream. Something his mind had made up for him, something to experience while recovering from the amount of alcohol in his blood. Just something a little extra to mock him some more. When he would wake up, like for real, the fact that Paul really wasn’t with him anymore and wouldn’t ever by lying there, next to him in his warm, comfortably and extremely small bed, ever again, the pain would be ten times worse. John sighed and let his lips brush with Paul’s little nose, before lying back down and closing his eyes again. He wouldn’t do this to himself anymore. It was for the best to ignore it and fall asleep as soon as possible, hopefully forget about this dream, or at least making it as unimportant as possible so it wouldn’t hurt him to much when he woke up and Paul’s breath wasn’t ticking his cheek any longer.

‘I love you, Paul…’ John muttered against the boy’s shoulder before lying his head on it and closing his eyes. It was something that he had never dared to say to the boy’s face, something, that only consisted of four simple words, which had made his hand get clammy and made him nervous, something that had scared him before, but knew now to be true.

            When John woke up again, his bed was, like anticipated, empty. John rolled onto his stomach and groaned loudly into his pillow. It didn’t  matter that he had pushed the dream away, the pain was still terrible when he woke up. He truly missed Paul. Sodding bastard. Paul should have listened to him. Then everything would have been fine. Then Paul would have been here. His arms around him, holding him tightly as he slept with his mouth a little open like John had seen those times that Paul had spent the night. He missed watching that mouth move slightly in the early mornings. Even in his sleep Paul talked a lot. Or so John thought. He really did move his lips a lot.

He sighed and rolled back around, staring up at the ceiling. His body still hurt, his gut mostly, so he had really been into a fight. He just couldn’t remember. John closed his eyes tightly shut and rubbed his head in order to wake up more. He had to remember. What if something important happened. He surely wouldn’t have gotten home all by his self… Oh… Then suddenly John remembered. He remembered being in pain, his body fowled to make him feel as comfortable as possible as he felt like his balls had just been ripped off and thrown across the little, dark pub. His knee hurt badly as he felt another kick. Suddenly there was a big mob of brown hair in front of his eyes. Not from the guy who was punishing him, but from someone else. He tried to focus on the person as they kneeled down in front of him and lifted is head carefully.

‘Shit, John… What are you thinking, drinking like this…’ John heard a very familiar voice ask him soothingly, obviously not expecting him to answer. John felt like his stomach was being turned upside down and stretched and hit repeatedly, making him sick. He stopped breathing when he opened his eyes.

‘Oh, shit. You’re awake.’ John now saw a very familiar person say to him. The person’s hand had obviously been making its way to his face or hair for it was pulled away quickly and put down on a thigh. John looked back up.

‘Paul?’ He asked as he narrowed his eyes, not sure whether he was still dreaming or not. It didn’t feel like a dream. Slyly he pinched himself in his side and let out a not-so-sly yelp. John felt his whole body warm up from the inside out as he saw Paul smile at his discomfort. As soon as he noticed he was smiling he stopped immediately and his beautiful face got all serious and a little scared all of a sudden.

‘Are you alright, now?’ The boy asked. John could hear he was nervous. He nodded faintly and thought deeply about this all. How had Paul known? He knew Mimi wouldn’t have called him. And obviously that guy from the pub wasn’t here so he hadn’t started talking.

‘You’re wondering why I am here.’ It wasn’t a question. John nodded and sat up a little. His head felt like crushing open, but John tried his best to ignore it.

‘You shouldn’t sit up just yet. You’ve got an awful wound.’ Paul warned him.

‘Wound?’ John asked, not having a clue what his (ex-)boyfriend was talking about.

‘You don’t remember, do you?’ Paul asked. John shook his head. Again, he felt hell lot of pain. Paul noticed and pushed John back down into the pillow with his head.

‘Please, don’t hurt yourself. You have to lie down. Or so the doctor said.’ he told him. John chuckled and snuggled into the comforting warmth of his blanket. How was Paul making him feel this… uncomfortable, stupid, scared… Who before had been the most of the warmest and safest and pleasantest people to be around, now made him terrified. And he wasn’t even trying. With was rather unsettling.

‘I assume you told him that I couldn’t possible sit quietly all day.’ He joked. Paul laughed weakly. Almost politely but  meant.

‘Yes.’ He replied, ‘He wouldn’t have it, though. He said I’d have to strap you to the bed, if needed.’ John laughed and flinched at the pain it caused. Paul immediately moved closer to him, pressing a cold, wet cloth against his forehead with affection. Or so it seemed. John knew better of course. What was Paul doing here?

‘You wouldn’t have minded doing that a week ago.’ John mumbled without thinking. He wanted to hit himself. Not clever talking about that now.

‘Indeed I wouldn’t.’ Paul replied, getting John to look up at him and lock eyes in surprise and mostly by accident. Paul smiled at him. John didn’t know what to do next. So instead they just sat quietly for a few minutes, Paul helping John get more comfortable.

            John still couldn’t quite understand what Paul was doing here. But he was. He didn’t even know if he liked it that Paul was here. But he couldn’t really say that he disliked it. He was now sitting up, his back against the wall with an warm, steaming cup in hand of which he took a sip from time to  time. Paul was moving around in his room, cleaning some stuff up that they (or Paul at least, he was told he had had been unconscious) had made that previous night.  John wanted to know what had happened, but watching Paul, the morning sun reflecting on his pale skin, hair and clothing messy, lips red from the biting he did, probably because he was nervous, too, John couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was like he had lost all the ability and will to speak. To make any sound at all. Paul was here with him. In his room. Watching over him because of whatever the hell happened, and it wasn’t a dream. It was nearly unbelievable. When Paul turned to him to ask if he was okay, he refound his voice.

‘Paul, what are you doing here? What the fuck happened?’ He asked. Paul sighed and dropped the shirt with a stain that looked like blood onto the chair at his desk.

            Paul silently moved over to him and sat down onto the bed next to him, their shoulder brushing together lightly every time one of them moved. John felt his heart stuck in his throat, making it hard from him to breath. He watched Paul quietly as the man told him what had happened. He told him that he had heard from the barmaid that he’d come in and started drinking right away, looking miserably. Then how there had been this guy who had started talking to him after he had gotten so pissed he couldn’t even speak properly anymore. How the guy had won his thrust and said something wrong, and pissed him off. Paul didn’t know what, because he had walked in when they had already been done with the fighting. He told him how he had been lying there on the dirty ground, blood streaming from his head and curled up, grabbing his crotch. Paul told him he hadn’t been able to get through to him and finally had passed out. He had called George who had helped him get him home and into the bed. George had called the doctor as Paul had changed him into some cleaner and less blood-stained clothing. The doctor had come quickly and within no time he had been sleeping peacefully in the bed, his head taped in nicely. Paul told him that George had gone and home and that he had offered to stay and look after him. Which he had done. John didn’t tell him he’d seen Paul when he had woke up that night. His mind was fuzzy and he felt himself get dizzy as blurry images of the night before shot through his head in a speed that made him nearly pass out again. He saw the blond guy, grinning at him and he heard parts of the conversation. He heard the man saying something about a girlfriend. Then about some sluts. A bit about getting a blow job… had this man been coming on to him? Cheating. They had talked about cheating. Paul? Was this about Paul? The cunt had called Paul a slack! How dare he! John moved his hands to his head and held himself tightly, hoping it would keep him from fainting again. Paul had obviously noticed because he felt himself being laid down again. The man had fucking kicked him in the nuts! Fuck, that must have hurt. For a brief period he was glad he couldn’t remember the pain. He felt how Paul adjusted his legs to he was lying properly. It all seemed so far away. More images flashed before him. Beer. Lots of beer. He had hit the man, screamed at him. The guy had smiled at him. Something he said about whores. He felt Paul’s fingers on his skin and his voice trying to sooth him, though he couldn’t quiet hear what he said. John let his eyes fall close, trying to block everything out and just focus on Paul’s touch. Paul’s fingers traced his jawline. His nose, his trembling lips, they moved into his hair and started to push it back and play with it lightly. His hands moved up and down his arms, his sides, his shoulder, his leg. He slowly opened his eyes as he felt his body relax and the images stopped coming. Paul looked worried. His forehead was wrinkled like he was in deep thought and his eyes studied his face. John took a deep breath.

‘Just relax…’ John heard Paul say softly. He took another deep breath and relaxed slowly. His head was throbbing and his leg hurt.

‘It’s fine. Just relax. You have to relax. You had had a big blow.’ Paul continued. John figure he must mean his head. Fuck did that hurt. He took another couple of deep breaths and felt himself calm down every time he breathed out. Like the tension came out along with the air.

‘Paul?’  John asked, his voice sounded a lot weaker that he had thought it would have been. Paul smiled and waited for what was about to come. John swallowed thickly before taking another deep breath.

‘Thank you…’ He spoke. Paul smiled even broader and let his hand run through his hair again before leaning over and pressing his lips against his cheek sweetly. John’s heart skipped a beat and he felt himself get hot all over because of Paul’s touch. It was so simple, but… It meant that Paul did still care for him. At least liked him.

‘I miss you.’ John heard himself say, his voice cracking like he was about to cry. Paul nodded and continued to stroke his hair.

‘We’ll talk about this later, okay?’ He asked with a reassuring smile. John felt his mouth get all dry. Still he nodded. At least he wanted to talk. Paul placed another kiss on his cheek before standing up and laying a thin blanket over him. John mumbled a thank you and snuggled into a little ball. Paul stroked his hair one last time before walking away. John followed his around the room with his eyes. Paul opened the door and stepped outside. John held his breath as Paul stuck his head back into the room and smiled sweetly at him.

‘Oh, John? I’ve missed you, too.’ He said before moving away again and closing the door behind him. John listened closely and heard Paul walk away, down the stairs. He heard the kitchen door softly close. Paul was going to make breakfast. He breathed out the breath he didn’t know he had been holding in relieve. Past tense. Maybe it wasn’t all that bad. Maybe they still had a chance. He hoped so. He’d do anything to feel Paul’s lips against his cheek one last time. Anything. He yawned and closed his eyes. He could probably catch a little more rest before Paul would come back up with breakfast. 


	8. Chapter 8

Paul felt terribly nervous. Now it was time for the hard part. He really had to try not to burn breakfast. Scrambled eggs and bacon with some toast. John was in need for something nice to eat. But his hands were shaking, his knees were literally at the point of giving in under the weight of the rest of his body and his mind was wandering everywhere except in the right place. Suddenly he smelled something like fire and burned bread. Quickly Paul turned to the toaster and ran over to it, getting the bread out of it as quickly as he could, nearly burning is own fingers in the process. It wasn’t yet burned. But it had been about to. It was far darker than it should have been. Well, John just had to be happy with it. He quickly draped the toast on a plate and put that on a tray. Now, he just had to wait for the eggs and bacon, which turned out the be better than Paul had expected.

 

            ‘John?’ Paul asked with a knock on the door. He held the tray with the hot food in his one hand as he knocked again with the other, wanting to put it down as soon as possible. It was far more heavy than he had imagined it to be.

‘John, I’ve made some breakfast.’ Paul called again, silently marvelling about how normal his voice sounded while his heart was beating like a time bomb. There was something that sounded like groan. He took a deep breath before opening the door with his elbow. The room was still the same as he had left it. Only John had changed his position. He was now lying with his head down in his pillow. He groaned again. Paul sighed and rolled his eyes as he quickly put the tray down and hurried over to his friend and carefully rolled him over.

‘Fucking head…’ John murmured.

‘John, you have to eat and drink. It will do you good.’ With a few more groans Paul managed to get to John sit up against the wall, his legs hanging over the edge of the bed. Carefully he handed the man a mug with tea and sat down next to him on the edge of the bed. He watched closely as John took a couple of sips from the mug and closed his eyes contently as the creamy substance slid down his throat, warming him up from the inside out. When he opened his eyes again, he looked already better. More relaxed. He handed the mug back to Paul and asked for some toast, which the younger gave him with a sweet smile.

‘Do you want anything else?’ He asked. John nodded and his face immediately turned sour, feeling the pain in his head again.

‘Just some painkillers.’ Paul handed them to him, which caused john to raise an eyebrow.

‘You really think of everything, don’t you?’

‘I try to.’ Paul replied as he also got John a glass of water to help him swallow the pills.

After that it stayed quiet for a while as John drank and ate. Paul too helped himself to a bit of toast and kept an eye on John, twitching whenever John’s face constricted with pain.

            ‘Paul?’ John suddenly asked, making the other lad look up at his older mate as he drank the last of his tea.

‘Hmm?’ he asked.

‘Why are you here? With me?’ John’s voice was trembling slightly as he spoke. Paul looked back down at his hands, which he folded in his lap.

‘I already told you.’ He said, his voice sounding as small as he was feeling.

‘Paul, I’m serious. Because I- I thought you were gone, you know… I can’t… If you want to end this the _proper_ way, then please leave now.’ There was a pleading tone in his voice and it made Paul’s breath hitch. He had known that this had hit John hard, after all that had happened to him, but to really see and hear it now, the weakness, John was broken, tired, fed up with everything and helpless, it shocked Paul nonetheless and it made him feel even more terrible. All this… because of some letter and a misunderstanding.

‘I don’t want to end this.’ Paul spoke, still playing with his hands, ‘Why would I?’ He carefully looked up at the man on the bed. His face looked plainly shocked and he blinked a couple of times quickly. Paul could almost hear his brain working, trying to get this all to make sense. Paul sighed deeply.

‘I… I’m sorry.’ He didn’t know what else to say. He wanted to tell John about Stuart, about how he had felt when he had first read the letters, and when John hadn’t said anything about them when he had first called him. That he had locked himself in his room, not answering to anyone and not eating anything except when it was brought to him. He wanted to tell him what he had felt when he had seen him and Stuart sitting there closely on the curb, laughing like they used to. What he had actually wanted to say when John had ran after him, but was too scared to actually say it. That he was a coward. He wanted to tell John that he had talked to Stuart, had listened to him and now understood what had been going on, that he felt guilty for not trusting him completely and jumping into the wrong conclusions even when he hadn’t meant to. He also wanted to tell John he was sorry and that’s what he did. Because that was the only part that he could manage to tell him.

‘I’m sorry.’  He repeated again, hoping that John would say something. But John didn’t. He didn’t even react at Paul’s apology. He just sat there, staring at him as he waited. Paul felt his courage go down the drain.

‘John, please. I’m… I’m really not very good at this kind of thing.’ He laughed weekly, more to break the tension than because he felt like it, ‘But… I do mean it. I am sorry. I truly am. I felt so confused and I guess I just panicked or something. You were acting cold towards me for those last couple of weeks and then suddenly there’s this letter from Stuart in which he asks you to give him another chance and you act like nothing is the matter. I didn’t know what to think, so I thought this. And then when I saw you two together. I thought I knew, you know. That I had found the prove I needed. And I feel so stupid now that I know that Stuart was merely saying goodbye.’ Paul sighed and took his head in his hands, looking down.

‘Paul, about those letters. I’ve never…’

‘I know.’ Paul interrupted him, ‘I talked to Stuart.’

‘Stuart? When? He’s…’

‘Gone. I know.’ Paul sighed and rubbed his temples, ‘He left yesterday afternoon. George told me what happened and I looked for him. He told me everything.’

‘Everything?’

‘Yes. And I want you to know that, even if you won’t take me back, I’m very sorry and I… I- I care…’

‘You care?’

‘Yes. About us, you…’ Paul replied, after which he fell silent. And John did too, as he gave his still slow working head the change to comprehend all of the new information.

            ‘You care about me?’ John asked after a couple of minutes. Paul looked up at his friend and nodded. John sighed.

            ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Paul asked after another couple of minutes. John swallowed thickly and sat up a bit more, pressing his lower back also against the wall.

‘I never wanted this to happen. I knew this was going to happen if I told you. I never answered to his letters, but… I didn’t want to hurt you. I knew it was nothing and I could handle it all on my own. I had to. To get over everything that happened between me and him. And nothing was really going on. I didn’t want you to worry about nothing.’ John answered. Paul nodded and bit his lip. Neither was very good at apologizing and everything was just so awkward. Tension hung thick in the air and he hadn’t a clue what to say. All he wanted to say was that he missed him and wants to feel him against him again, feel his heart beat and his warm breath creep over his skin and into his ear.

‘You should have told me. I didn’t have a clue what was going on and it got me worried. I… I wished you’d told me about the letters.’

‘I wish you’d trust me.’ Paul was taken aback by the painful, stabbing words and for a second he couldn’t react to anything. He looked back down at his fingers, feeling incredibly guilty and John wasn’t making it better.

‘I do. Really, John. I do trust you.’ Paul muttered softly.

‘Then why didn’t you just leave it when I told you too.’

‘I told you. I trust _you._ ’ Paul repeated loudly, his head snapping up to look John square in the face. John looked surprised. ‘I trust you, John. It’s him who I don’t trust. And you shouldn’t either.’ Paul spoke. John seemed a bit taken aback by it and didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say.

‘You still should have told me.’ Paul repeated again as he looked away, not knowing what else to say. Because he should have told him. If John had just told him… Paul felt a lump forming in his throat.

            ‘I still don’t see why.’ John said. He sounded like a little child who didn’t get his way. Paul looked up at John in surprise, his mouth hanging open.

‘You don’t get it, do you?’ Paul asked. John didn’t look at him.

‘I was worried, John! I knew something was up. I know when something is bothering you. I know you, John. You can’t hide that kind of stuff from me. I can see it in your eyes. Even when you think no one can, _I_ see it. I always see it.’ Paul’s voice broke and he felt like crying. 

‘You don’t know me.’ John told him.

‘I do. You know I do. You think you can hide yourself away behind that mask. You think no one can see what you really feel, what you really think. But I can, John. You know I can. I care about you and I want to help you, but you don’t let me, so I have to find everything out myself. And that’s what I do. Slowly, that mask you put over your face when something is wrong, it’s getting transparent. For me. Just for me. Because I bother. I can see what you feel when something reminds you of Julia, I can see it when you feel insecure or afraid. You can’t hide those things from me.’ Paul spoke rapidly, letting it all spill out.

‘Then why don’t you just fucking help me?! Why don’t you just…’ John  took his head in his hands. His head hurting like hell and heart even worse.

‘I’m no mind reader, John. I can’t just help you if you won’t let me. If you won’t tell me what’s wrong. I can’t know what’s wrong if you won’t tell me. I can guess, but I don’t _know._ I want to help you, but I can’t if you won’t let me.’ Paul answered.

‘And why don’t you leave me the fuck alone. Why do you care, Paul? Why don’t you just let me rot from the inside out like so many others have done?!’ John nearly shouted, rubbing his hand over his temples. His voice sounded broken. And Paul was taken aback. John was afraid. Afraid to be left alone again and again. Every time someone got close enough, they’d left him. His father, his mum, twice even, his uncle, Stuart… and now him. That’s why he hadn’t told him. Not because he didn’t want to hurt his feelings. No, it had been a lot more selfish. He had been afraid of losing him. To be left alone, again.

‘John, I won’t leave you.’ Paul whispered.

‘And how do you know?! How would you know?! My mum, she told me she wasn’t going to leave again, that she’d always be around and that we’d be together. Stuart told me he fucking cared for me and screwed some bird behind me back! And you… I trusted you. I came to you when she died. I let you see me when I let my guard down. You helped me through that shit with Stuart and then you left. Because you didn’t trust me. Because you…’

‘I did trust you! And I didn’t really leave. I never would.’

‘And how would you know?!’

‘Because, I’m your bloody boyfriend! I fancied you ever since we met. I joined your bloody awful band, because it was awful, and I’d put my school on second place for you. I spend hours trying to teach you the right accords and spend hours trying to figure you out. Even when you started to date Stuart, I continued being there for you. I made myself not be bothered by it and took all of your shit whenever something happened. I was the one who was there for you, not Stuart, not your auntie, not your mother even, before she got run over. I was! I had gotten myself that shitty job because of you. And I’m not going to let that all go to waste because of something as tiny as freaking love letters from him or anything that will happen. I’m your bloody boyfriend and you’re stuck with me, now.’ Paul rambled on. This whole thing hadn’t been about some letters, not really. It had laid deeper. For both of them.

‘I know you don’t let people get close to you, because you’re afraid they will leave you or use it all against you one way or another. I know you’re afraid, John. But if you let me get close to you. If you let me help you, I will and I won’t leave. If you won’t and continue to be a closed book to me that just opens up every six months or so, for as little as fifteen minutes, I will leave. Because I don’t understand you and I can’t spend all of my life trying to figure you out. I just can’t.’ Paul sighed.

            ‘It’s not that easy, Paul.’ John replied after a couple of seconds. His voice quiet and thoughtful.  Paul kept silent. He knew that. He wasn’t stupid.

‘You can’t expect me to…’

‘I know.’ Paul interrupted him, ‘I’d wish you’d just tell me these things.  Because… you meant too much to me to just let it go.’

‘Is that a confession of love?’ John whispered with a soft chuckle. Paul looked up at him with a smirk and shook his head.

‘It is whatever you want it to be.’ He answered. And for one second Paul could swear he saw a twinkle in John’s eyes. It made his heart flutter and he chuckled nervously.

‘I’m sorry, Paul.’

‘I know you are.’

‘Don’t leave me. Please?’

‘I won’t if you’ll be honest with me.’ And John smiled at that.

‘You mean too much to me, too.’ Paul felt like crying. But instead he laughed. 

* * *

 

George fell exhausted on the bed. Finally… he thought. If they weren’t going to get together now… George wouldn’t know what to do anymore. He was absolutely sick of it. All that hassle… it was tiring. Even for him. He closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. He was so glad he had picked up that phone. Who knows what could have happened if he hadn’t. John alone in that pub. With that guy. Paul had sure given him a bit of a hard time. Nearly broke the git’s nose. George chuckled as he replayed the scene in his head. John laying there on the ground, Paul shouting at the man and punching him straight on the nose. George could have sworn he had heard a crack. He wondered if Paul would tell John that.

‘What’s funny?’ A sleepy voice suddenly muttered next to him. George smiled and rolled his head, his nose now resting on a shoulder.

 

‘Paul nearly broke some bloke’s nose.’ He answered. The man next to him snickered and wrapped an arm around George’s bony body, holding him closer against him. George hummed and buried his face in the older man’s chest, inhaling deeply to smell the man’s strong, musty odour.

‘Tell me.’ The man said.

‘Paul and John were at a pub,’ he muttered against the man’s sleeping shirt, ‘John was drinking and being hit on by some blond. The stranger nearly harassed him and so Paul punched him in the face and nearly broke his nose. The blond ran off afterwards. John was lying on the floor with a huge head wound. We brought him home and called a doctor. Paul is with him now.’

The man hummed and buried his fingers in the younger lad’s nearly curly mob of hair. George’s hair felt so soft and silky like without all that grease he put in it to get it to stand up in that cute and tough way. George hummed approvingly and moved into the touch.

‘Is he awake?’ George shrug at his question.

‘No, not completely. He had opened his eyes for a bit, but I’d doubt if he actually realised that,’ He answered, ‘You smell.’ The man chuckled and stroked George’s hair sweetly.

‘Thanks.’ He replied sarcastically. George laughed softly too.

‘Go and take a shower.’ He nearly ordered.

‘Care to join me?’ And at that George opened his eyes and looked up into those blue pools of crystal clear water. The man looked so beautiful that only that cliché could describe them with words. Or at least George thought so.

‘Love to.’ He answered, before leaning up and brushing his lips softly against Ringo’s.

‘I’ll go and get the temperature right, then.’ The man said before getting up from the bed and move to the bathroom. George smiled happily to himself and rubbed his sleepy face in the pillow with a groan, trying to get himself to wake up just a bit more before following his boyfriend to the bathroom.

            Richie’s flat, which he shared with some bloke who was not even there for most of the time, was small, cramped with stuff and filthy. George loved it. It was everything is own home and bedroom wasn’t allowed to be. Even the bathroom was dirty, though a lot cleaner than the other parts of the house, which came as a surprise to George as he stepped into the room, which was already filled with steam and a naked Richie.

            ‘Took you long enough.’ The man said with a smirk as he caught George’s eyes. George blushed at the naked sight of his boyfriend and moved awkwardly around for a bit, feeling unsure about himself. It wasn’t the first time he had seen Ringo naked, but still Ringo’s body was so different from his own. He had muscles and flesh, and even though he was short, he looked much more mature and the man had thick hairs on his legs and chest. George didn’t have anything on his legs, yet. Or chest. Though, he had spotted a few lost hairs, it really wasn’t much. This all made George always feel a little intimidated when he saw the other naked. Luckily, Ringo seemed to notice.  He smiled at him before walking over to him, out of the stream of hot water, and he started to undo the buttons of George’s shirt. George swallowed thickly and brought his own trembling fingers to his jeans and undid them before sliding them down, exposing the slight bulge in his boxer briefs. When he noticed Ringo licking his lips, he blushed an ever deeper shade of red. He shivered as he heard his shirt and jeans fall onto the cold, tilled floor.

‘Come on, beautiful.’ Ringo coaxed him as he took three of his fingers in his hand and let him carefully to the shower. George let him, his cheeks were still very much flushed.

The water was just right. Not to warm, not to cold. Just perfect. George looked up into the stream and let the warm water run down his face. He smiled contently. Ringo moved behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him against him as he moved his lips over the sensitive flesh behind George’s ear. George cocked his head to its side and hummed contently as he reached back with one hand to tangle his fingers into Richie’s hair.

‘You’re so beautiful…’ Ringo moaned against his neck as his fingers started to explore more and more of his young body. George smiled at the compliment and pushed back against Ringo’s body. Ringo’s fingers moved delicately over George’s hips, across his sides and into the little dark hair of his pubes, teasing him already. George sighed and bit his lip as he slowly began to move his hips in reply. He could feel Ringo smile against his neck.

‘Richie…’ He breathed heavily.

Ringo shushed him by turning his head by his chin and covering the younger man’s mouth with his own. He could feel George shiver against him. The younger man moaned wantonly into his mouth as he licked between his lips and beckoned him to open his mouth for him. Ringo allowed him access and began to move his own naked erection against the curve of George’s arse as he continued to move his fingers lower down until he was just above George’s now hard dick.

‘Please…’ George coaxed as he began to move his hips more freely, until Ringo’s cock slid between his arse cheeks. Ringo groaned and began to suck on the tongue that was still invading his mouth as hw began to thrust, sliding his cock along the crack and tracing his fingers down over George’s shaft. George’s grip on his hair tightened and he moaned loudly as Ringo wrapped his hand around the shaft completely and started a slow rhythm.

George let his head fall slack and broke the kiss with a perhaps slight desperate groan. The feeling of Ringo’s cock sliding between his cheeks, teasing his hole as the man’s fingers moved over his cock, getting him to leak precum, combined with the relaxing feeling of water falling down onto his body, warming him up even more and filling the room with steam, was amazing and torturously good, but not enough. Ringo’s hand was too slow and too gentle, his cock not pressed against him hard enough and the water not hot enough to make him feel it. The little sucks against the back of his neck were not bruising enough. As if Ringo didn’t want to mark him. As if he thought of him as some piece of fine china. George was secretly frightened by the thought that he wanted Ringo to make him feel it. To mark him and claim him as his own. To make it _hurt_. He didn’t say anything about it, afraid of what Richie might say of it.

‘Please…’ He begged softly, as he leaned forward and rested with his hands against the cold wall, giving him that slight uncomfortable feeling for which he secretly craved. He pushed his bum up and tensed his muscles, making the slide more easy, but even more intense at the same time. Ringo leaned over him, pressing his chest against his back and digging his teeth gently into George’s shoulder as he began to move his hips quicker. The grip of his hand tightened and the man began to move faster and harder, slowly bringing George closer to his orgasm with every flick of his finger across the purple head.

‘Shit…’ George moaned and moved closer to the wall, pressing his face against the cold tiles as well, both for the pleasure it gave him as well as to hold his balance. Ringo’s trust became more and more violent as his orgasm appreciated and George’s knees weakened as he himself was balancing on the edge, just needing just that tad bit more to be able to spay his cum onto the wall.

‘Fuck… George..’ Ringo moaned out against his shoulder, his voice trembling and thick with arousal. George whined as Ringo’s hand squeezed him by accident, nearly making him loose it.

‘More, Rich… oh shit… come for me… I need you… to come… shit… so good…’ George moaned, his words muffled slightly against the tiles, but still very much audible for the man who was now trembling against the young body under him.

‘Do it now… Oh shit… do it. I want to feel your hot cum dripping down my crack and thighs. Oh shit… come for me… I want it…’ George moaned louder, knowing Ringo liked to be talked into coming and it was all it took. Ringo cursed and cried out against George’s shoulder as he came in hot, long strokes, painting George’s arse and lower back. His fingers shook around George’s cock, pulling hard on accident, but it was just what George needed to shoot his own, painting the wall with it. His knees weakened and soon he couldn’t hold himself. He slid down onto the floor and breathed heavily and he tried  to calm himself.

            Ringo continued to stand there, his hands against the wall, head down between his arms. As he opened his eyes he saw George lying flat on his stomach under him, his bum, lower back and thighs covered in his cum and his face a little dirty with his own from sliding down. His beautiful mouth hung open as he caught his breath. Ringo knew for sure that if he hadn’t just come, he would have just by the sight alone.

‘Shit George…’ He breathed. George laughed tiredly, his eyes still closed.      

            George and Ringo stumbled back into the bedroom in nothing but a towel wrapped around their hips. George felt absolutely exhausted. It had been a long day. He had no idea what time it was, but he was sure that even Paul was already asleep somewhere. He hoped everything was alright, but he was too tired  to think about it too much. Ringo took his hand and placed a sweet kiss on his cheek.

‘You’re tired.’ He pointed out softly. George closed his eyes and nodded. Ringo gave him another kiss and led him carefully to the bed where he let him sit down.

‘You know, you spend too much time worrying about those two.’ Ringo continued as he moved around the room, looking for two clean pairs of boxer for George and himself to put on. He found two and walked back to hand one to George who took it with a smile.

‘I have to,’ he answered with a sigh, ‘They’ll get themselves killed one day if I don’t.’

‘I’m sure it’s not that bad.’ Ringo said with a chuckle as he stepped into the boxers.

‘It is.’ George replied with a yawn and put his own on. Ringo decided George was too tired and left the subject for what it was. All he could do was hope that the stupid idiots would kiss and make up. He helped his younger boyfriend into bed before sliding beneath the covers next to him and spooning up behind him.

‘Night, Geo.’

‘Night Richie.’

            It was extraordinarily busy at the record stop and Paul could nearly feel the sweat dripping down his forehead, except for the fact that it wasn’t. But it did feel like it. Paul had been running around the shop all day, searching for records of which he hadn’t even heard of before and accidently bumping against things and knocking them over. He already had a nasty bruise on his hip, but he didn’t really care. Nothing could spoil his cheery mood. And to make it even better, Paul saw his boss looking at him rather proudly when he would knock something over, fix it within seconds and help the costumer without complaining even once. He hoped the man would tell his father so he could finally quit this terrible job. Still, better than working at the supermarket or something like that, he supposed. Or baby-sitting.

            Paul looked up from the records he had been ordered to organise properly as he heard the shop bell ring, hoping he would be able to get out of the lousy job he had been given. Who cared if it was organised correctly. Most people just browsed until they found something, anyways. The new ones were at the front, so there really was no need in Paul’s eyes. A smile appeared on his face as he noticed who had just entered the shop.

‘Morning, Paul. That new Fats Domino LP in already?’ George asked as he greeted his friend with a smile. Paul smiled back and shook his head.

‘No, not yet. Next week remember. Morning Richie.’ Paul replied. Ringo said hi back before turning to browse through the records.

‘So? What’s going on, now?’ George asked with an hopeful knowing grin as he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest. Paul blushed slightly and looked back at the records in his hands. He could practically hear George’s jaw drop.

‘Oh my! Something did happen. What? You guys made up? Did he kiss you? Oh god, he did, didn’t he?’ George asked with excitement, a little louder than Paul would have liked. Immediately he moved forward and clashed his hand over George’s mouth. The only sounds now coming from George were muffled and Ringo looked up at them with a raised eyebrow.

‘Shut up! Someone might hear ya!’ Paul whispered sternly. George nodded and rolled with his eyes as Paul let go of him.

‘But did he?’ he asked again.

‘No.’ Paul answered in a tight voice.

‘But you did make up?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then, why didn’t you kiss?’ Paul gave him a look before pretending to slap him.

‘None of your business.’ He said, turning away to continue sorting out the records.

‘It is, you know. With all you guys have put me through.’ George said as he moved closer to his friend. Paul sighed.

‘Well, we just didn’t. Alright?’ He replied, his voice tight with slight annoyance. He really did not want to talk about it. Maybe it was because he still felt unsure about why John hadn’t kissed him. He mindlessly started chewing his lip.

‘You alright?’ George asked, suddenly sounding a lot more worried.

‘I don’t know, George. I guess I’m just tired.’ Paul answered.

‘No, you’re not. You’re worried. You made up but it still bothers you.’ George noted. Paul didn’t look up and just carried on doing his job, hoping George would leave it.

‘Is that why you didn’t kiss?’ George pressed on. Paul angrily put the record he held in his hands down as he got truly fed up with it.

‘NO! I’m worried _because_ we didn’t kiss. Not even a bloody peck on the cheek.’ George fell silent at that.

‘Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have work to do.’ Paul added before turning on his heels and walking away, over to some customers who looked like they needed help. 

* * *

 

Paul hadn’t spoken to George since he had walked away. When he had returned George and Ringo had already left, leaving Paul with a feeling of guilt. It’s wasn’t George’s fault that he still felt a little unsure about this thing, whatever it was, that was going on between him and John. He wasn’t even one hundred per cent sure they were really back together. Well, they were together, but… Paul didn’t know. There was something different. What had happened had left a scar. Paul just hoped it wouldn’t have too much impact on how thing were going to be for them.

 

            It was already dark when Paul strutted back home through the dark and cold streets of Liverpool. Winter was coming and Paul could feel it do so through the thick layers of his coat and clothes. He decided to head home and not visit John to spend the night as his. He was too tired and it was too cold to walk any further than necessary. Besides, he hadn’t told John he had initially planned on spending the night at his after he had finished work. They had agreed to see each other the next day, hoping that the other two would be free too to practise some more for their next gig that following Saturday.

            Paul tried not to think too much about what happened the previous night and  morning. They had agreed to start out fresh. Start over again. Paul was glad John had opened up to him. Hell, he even admitted to loving him. In his own way. Paul knew he had little reason to complain. But still… John didn’t seem to have had any intention in kissing him. He had held him and Paul could still feel John’s fingers dancing over his arms and thighs if he concentrated. He could still feel John’s chest pressed against his back as they had sat together on the bed. But when Paul had gotten up to freshen up and leave for work, John hadn’t tried to keep him by him, like he normally did. He hadn’t grabbed his shirt and pulled him down onto the bed again. He had just let him go, his hand falling down sluggishly as he had had to let go of his shit so Paul could move around freely. John had walked him downstairs, stuffed his mouth with some bread, saying that he had to eat since it was already two in the afternoon and they hadn’t yet eaten lunch and then showed him the door, holding it and leaning against it all cool like. But Paul had seen John’s face twitch and he had seen something in John’s eyes which he hadn’t seen before. Insecurity, fear and doubt, mixed with something else. Something of which he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Paul shook his head at the thought and sped up his pace, wanting to be home to get some well-deserved rest as quickly as possible. Everything would be alright, right? One way or another. John just hadn’t quite gotten that fact that they were back together. That was all. His mind hadn’t caught up with him yet. That was the only reason why John hadn’t kissed him. He hadn’t really realised that he could yet. And that Paul wanted him to. And the next day, when Paul would see John again, all that would be gone and John would take him in his arms and kiss him so hard his lips would bleed. Paul had never hoped for something so badly in his life. Because if John wouldn’t… Paul didn’t know what he would do then.

            ‘Dad, I’m home!’ Paul shouted as he entered the house and slammed the door close, not giving a damn about what time it was.

‘James! Do not slam with the door! You’ll wake up Michael.’ Paul heard his father shout back from the living room, of where Paul could also hear the radio coming. Paul snickered. _Like he’s sleeping… Come on dad, even you know Mike doesn’t sleep before two in the morning._ Paul thought to himself. To his dad he said: ‘Sorry!’.

Paul kicked off his shoes and hung up his coat. When he was done is father was looking at him in the doorway. He seemed nervous.

‘How err… How w-was… You know… John…’ Jim spoke, his voice tight. Paul’s breath caught stuck in his throat. Was his father… His father was seriously trying to be supportive. Paul smiled and nodded.

‘It went fine, dad. We err… you know.’ Paul tried not to embarrass his dad, so he explain with little saying hand movements, but his dad seemed to understand. Paul knew this was probably tough on him. He had heard him talk to himself about it. Telling himself that he should just act normally and that it would be alright. Be a good dad and all. Only the fact that his dad was actually trying, was enough for Paul. His father nodded and his cheeks reddened slightly. Paul tried not to chuckle, though he did find it rather amusing.

‘G-go-good. Well… that’s… yeah. I’m happy, Paul.’ He said as he turned around and tried to disappear into the living room again.

‘Thanks dad!’ Paul shouted after him.

‘Just get some sleep.’ Jim replied, though Paul could hear his father sounded proud and happy with himself. Paul had never been this happy that Jim McCartney was his father.

            When Paul opened his eyes, he thought it was raining. It was probably still night, as there was not yet any sign that sunlight was going to come. There was soft ticking at his window, and it took Paul a few seconds to realise that the ticks came too little for it to be rain. He sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes as he listened closer. Silence. More silence. Tick. Silence. Tick. Tick. Silence. Louder tick. Silence. There was someone throwing rocks against his window. A harder and way louder thick. Paul quickly got up, afraid that if it was who he thought it was, that his window was going to break if he didn’t show himself anytime soon.

            ‘John! What the hell! It’s the middle of the night, for god’s sake. Can’t it wait?!’ Paul shouted when he finally managed to open his window. Luckily, John had stopped molesting his window.

‘Paul… Please… Let me in!’ John shouted back. His voice sounded weak and as if he was on the edge of tears. Paul’s heart skipped a beat and immediately he shut the window and ran downstairs to open the door. John was already standing there, his face wet and red with puffy eyes as if he had been crying.

‘John? What’s wrong?’

‘N-n-nnn-night… mare..’ John croaked out. Paul swallowed thickly.

‘About?’ He asked, doubtfully. John didn’t answer. But he didn’t have to. The silence was more than enough for Paul to understand.

‘Right. Come in. You must be freezing.’ He said as he wrapped as arm around John’s shoulder and let him inside, knowing that touch was what John needed.

            ‘Paul? Paul, who is that?’ Jim called from the stairs. John froze, obviously not comfortable with Jim knowing the state he was in and scared that he might find out.

‘It’s John.’ Paul simply answered. It stayed quite for some time and John could feel his heart beat in his throat as Paul let him into the kitchen.

‘R-Right then. Just call if you need anything.’ Jim McCartney spoke suddenly.

‘Yeah, thanks dad.’ Paul replied. John couldn’t understand how Paul could keep this calm. He was being sat down on a chair in the kitchen and watched as Paul boiled some tea for them.

            ‘Can you tell me?’ Paul asked softly as he put a hot steamy much of tea in front of his boyfriend and sat down opposite of him with his own tea. John slowly nodded. Paul laid a hand on John’s arm and squeezed. John took a deep breath and started talking, looking down at his tea and warming his hands up by wrapped them tightly around the much. Paul wondered if it didn’t hurt.

‘I-I dreamed about her, Paul. But it wasn’t the same.’ John spoke softly and Paul had to lean closer to hear him properly, ‘She came for me, Paul. She came to get me and take me with her. She looked so beautiful, Paul. Her curly, red, hair, long and hanging down hair back, her dress completely white and it was like she was floating. She told me I had done well and that she was proud of me.’ Paul watched John carefully as he spoke. His voice sounded sad and again as if he could start crying at any time. A sad smile appeared on John’s handsome face.

‘She offered her hand and let me into the light. I held onto her tightly as I felt myself getting warmer and warmer. Then suddenly everything was dark and red and smoke was everywhere. Screams and cries of pain filled my ears and everywhere came strange, evil looking creatures, lurking at me and smiling at me. Their teeth… Covered in blood and rotten, some missing. Julia told me to stay close and keep walking. Suddenly I heard you. Crying out and begging for something to stop. I heard you crying out my name and begging for me to help you. I turned and… you… y-you were there… you were older. You’re clothing was ripped and you had dark circles and blood was dripping down your face. You hung there Paul. Flame licking up hungrily at you as you hung there… I- I… You…’ John buried his face in his hand and Paul could see John had gone all white. He himself felt his throat tighten as he thought about how he must have looked like. His grip tightened.

‘Go on…’ He spoke, his voice a lot stronger than he was feeling, ‘Just get it out.’

‘There was another robe. Right next to you. Empty. Julia told me that I saved myself. That I had done a good thing. She told me… She told me I had killed you, Paul. And then myself. And I saved myself from that faith because I killed you. Because I knew that what we were doing was wrong and that it had to stop.’ Paul didn’t know what to say. John began to shake and Paul got up and kneeled before him, laying  a hand on his shoulder and the other on John’s thigh, between John’s parted legs.

‘I- I killed you, Paul. I… I could look at you as the flames slowly began to burn your feet and birds began to hurt you. You cried out for me. You asked me why and asked for my help. But I couldn’t. I wanted to, Paul. I wanted to be there with you. I wanted to save you, keep you from dying there. Alone. That other robe, it was meant for me. But I couldn’t come near you. With every step I took closer to you, hands were dragging me back, further and further into the white light. My mum. She told me it was good this way and she was proud. That… I killed you. I hurt you. It- It was my fault.’ John sobbed and Paul immediately wrapped his arms around him, holding him tightly against him.

‘Oh John… Oh dear… It’s okay… It’s alright. It was just a dream. I’m here. You’re here. It’s all fine now. You didn’t hurt me. It was just a dream.’ Paul tried to sooth John as he tightened his grip as tears began to flow, ‘It’s okay.’ John shook his head.

‘No. No it’s not. I- I killed you, Paul. It was all my fault. I’m so sorry.’

‘Shh, You don’t have to be. It’s fine. I’m here now. You didn’t do anything. It was just a dream. Just a dream. It’s fine.’ Paul spoke on repeat as he rocked John from left to right and back again.

‘No, it’s not. You know what the bible says about homosexuality.’ John told him.

‘John, since when do you care what the bible says about anything?’ Paul asked as he continued to rock him. John stopped shaking, but grabbed Paul’s arm and held him close.

‘I don’t want that to happen to you, Paul.’ He said. Paul sighed and kissed the top of his head.

‘I know. It won’t happen. Really, John. We’re alright. You wouldn’t kill me. We’re not going to end up like that. I know we won’t.’ Paul spoke.

‘How do you know?’ John asked, his voice quieter but still shaky.

‘I don’t.’ Paul said. John stopped shaking and looked up at Paul. Paul sighed and kneeled back down. He stroked John’s cheek and smiled sweetly.

‘John, I’m here. You’re here. We’re alright. Nothing happened and nothing will happen. We’ll be careful. No one will find out of you don’t want that. It was just a dream John. It doesn’t mean that is going to happen.’

‘But what if it will?’ Paul didn’t know the answer, so he didn’t answer.

‘John,’ he said instead, ‘Promise me something?’

‘Yes?’

‘Believe me when I tell you that I- that I l-love you. And that I know you won’t hurt me. Not on purpose. But you will if you break up with me now, because of a nightmare.’ He said. John seemed a bit taken aback and blushed slightly as Paul told him loved him.

‘It’s just a dream, John. You can’t let a dream take over your mind like that. It doesn’t work that way. I promised I wouldn’t leave you, and now you’ll have to do the same.’ Paul added. John nodded slowly.

‘It was merely a dream, John. Nothing happened. I’m alright. I’m here. I’m with you. Just like you are here with me. Do you promise that you won’t leave me?’

‘Yes.’ John spoke softly, but it was enough for Paul. He smiled and leaned closer, cupping John’s cheek in his hand bringing his head down to lock their lips together. It felt as if the earth cracked under them.

            ‘JAMES!’ Paul heard his father cry out in shock as the sound of a breaking cup drifted away. Paul froze and his eyes shot open, his lips still connected to John’s.

‘Shit… right. Okay… I’ll erm… Clean this up, yeah… Once you’re err… ready… Right… good night.’ Jim spoke quickly as he nearly run back up the stairs. Paul couldn’t help but laugh as he looked down at themselves. He could only imagine how shocked his dad must have been. Him sitting between John’s open legs, one hand on John’s thigh, the other cupping John’s cheek, their lips locked together in their first kiss after almost a week. He laughed a little louder. Knowing your son fancied boys was one thing, but seeing him actually kiss them…

‘What’s funny? He knows, Paul! He’ll call the coppers on us.’ John said as it began to hit him. Paul laughed even louder and shook his head.

‘No, it’s alright… he knows… oh dear… Imagine that look on his face. Oh god…’ Paul said as he let his forehead rest against John’s chest.

‘What? What do you mean he knows?! He does now! We’ll be done for. I told you it wasn’t any good. Now they’ll hurt you and it’s all my fault.’

‘John, dear, please… He knew already… I- I told him about us.’

‘What? When?’

‘Do you seriously think I could have hide it all after what happened. Fuck, John. I was a fucking mess. I knew he wouldn’t let it go if I didn’t tell him the truth.’

‘And?’

‘He was shocked, but he supported me. Of course, he’s still a bit confused and shocked about it all. He already found it hard to talk about it, imagine seeing it. Oh, the poor man.’ Paul howled into John’s shirt.

‘So… He knows… And he was alright with it.’ Paul nodded and looked back up.

‘God, Paul. You’re so lucky, you have no idea.’ He said. Paul smiled and cocked his head before pressing his lips back against John’s, coaxing a moan out of John as John’s hands moved to his shoulder and brought him closer.

            ‘Oh, I missed that.’ John moaned as they parted again. Paul chuckled and traced the tired lines on John’s face with his fingertips.

‘Are you alright now?’ He asked. John swallowed thickly and nodded before brushing his lips against Paul’s again, probably too keep himself from freaking out again.

‘I think so. Kissing you helps.’ John answered as he tried to do it again.

‘Very smooth, John.’

‘Oh, shut up. I just missed feeling your lips against mine.’ Paul chuckled and shook his head as he moved to stand up. He reached out for John’s hands and pulled him up with him. There not even three inches apart and John could feel Paul’s slightly hitched, hot breath against his face.

‘You do know that I can do a lot more than just that with them.’ Paul replied suggestively as he let his finger draw little, playful circles on John’s chest.

‘As much as that sounds very appealing, I am rather tired. I haven’t been sleeping well these last couple of days, you know.’

‘How odd. You know, I have just the thing to make you relax.’ Paul answered.

‘Oh, do you really?’

‘Hmm.’ Paul hummed as he let his finger slide across John’s nipple that was pointing through the man’s shirt, ‘It’s upstairs.’

‘You lead on.’ John spoke with a beckoning of his hands. 


	9. Chapter 9

‘Paul? Are you sure your dad is okay with this? I don’t actually fancy being thrown into the cold night tonight, you know.’ John whispered into Paul’s ear as the younger man opened the door to his bedroom. Paul chuckled softly and nodded.

‘Just relax. He won’t bother us and certainly won’t throw you out. He’d be far too scared that I’ll run away from home.’ He answered as he walked into his room and let himself fall on the bed again. John blinked a few times before following Paul in and closing the door behind them.

‘You’d do that?’ He asked as he stared down at Paul.

‘Dunno. Depends on you, I guess.’

‘How’s that?’

‘Whether you’d let me stay at your place or not.’ Paul replied with a smile and patted next to him on the bed, beckoning John to lay down beside him. John grinned and did that. Paul sighed and rolled onto his side so he was facing John and began to trace the wrinkles of John’s shirt with his fingertips. He looked up into John’s eyes as he heard the older man sigh and place his hand on his arm.

 

‘I’ve missed you.’ John whispered quietly. Paul smiled broadly before leaning in and placing a little kiss on his lips.

‘I missed you, too.’ Paul muttered against the soft lips and let one hand disappear into John’s soft locks of auburn hair.

‘I’ve missed this.’ John spoke again as he wrapped his arms around Paul’s back and rolled them over so Paul was laying on top of him. Paul giggled as he continued to kiss John and let one of his knees fall between John’s legs so that his thigh pressed gently against John’s slowly hardening crotch. John moaned approvingly against him.

            ‘What did you say about those lips of yours again?’ John asked as they broke away. Paul smiled and licked them suggestively before sliding his way down John’s torso, trailing sweet kisses on his way and unbuttoning John’s shirt until he lay completely between John’s thighs and let his hands massage them. He looked back up as his lips reached the waistband of John’s trousers. John was watching him with a hungry look in his eyes. The man looked tired, but not yet tired enough to pass out on this opportunity. Paul’s heart was beating quickly in his chest as he moved his fingers up and started to unbutton John’s tight jeans and John let his head fall back onto the pillow. His hands started to explore his chest, sliding across his nipples and pinching them to make them stand erect. Paul’s gaze was so transfixed on the older man’s movements that he didn’t even realised that he was already dragging John’s trousers down until he had to lift John’s legs in order to get them off completely.

‘Eager much?’ John asked him with a smug laugh.

‘Don’t hear you complaining.’ Paul replied with a grin before resting his head on John’s hipbone. John bit his lip as he felt Paul’s hot breath tickling his still covered erection.

‘Never.’ He breathed heavily and trusted his hips up into Paul’s direction to beckon him to start already and waste no more time. Paul chuckled and nuzzled his nose in the fabric of John’s briefs, taking in the musky smell he had missed more than he had imagined the last week.

‘Paul?’ John asked, his voice wobbly all of a sudden.

‘Hmm?’ Paul asked, his eyes closed and not bothering looking up.

‘If you… if you don’t… you know… want to.. Than that’s fine…’ John spoke softly.

‘I know…’ Paul muttered back as a reply.

‘I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, alright. So please don’t do it for me.’

‘I know, John. I’m not. Really. I want to.’ Paul replied again and looked up, locking his eyes with John.

‘Because… with those letter and everything…’

 ‘John, It’s fine. I talked to Stuart, remember. It’s fine. I want to.’ Paul interrupted and kissed the base of John’s cock through the material before taking him in his hand and giving him a few pulls. John couldn’t hold back a groan and let his head fall back.

‘Ugh…’ He moaned. Paul chuckled.

‘Don’t tell me you’re going to let yourself miss out on this.’ He said as he hooked a finger under the waistband of John’s briefs and gave a light tug.

‘Well…’ John huffed as Paul dragged his nail of his free hand over the base of his cock, ‘You are making it rather difficult even if I wanted to.’ Paul chuckled and kissed the covered erection of his boyfriend once before dragging the briefs down with both hands and setting John’s now fully erect cock free. John let out a deep breath and Paul felt him relax as he started to move his hand up and down in a slow pace. Paul noticed how his own mouth started to water as he watched the foreskin move over the head and back again every time he moved his hands up and down.

He hadn’t ever felt the urge to put his mouth over a dick, and though it still sounded a little odd to him, it did sound rather appealing, tracing his tongue up and down the shaft, swirling it around the head and press down the sensitive spots and lick into the little hole to taste John’s salty pre-cum before the man would explode in his mouth and shoot it all down his throat, leaving him with no other option but to swallow. Paul didn’t understand what it was exactly, but it sounded so erotic and just the thought made his cock twitch in his jeans. And, oh, the beautiful sounds John would make.

            Paul shyly looked up at John, and felt himself relax a little more as he noticed John had let his head fall back into the pillow and was fully enjoying himself and was letting it all wash over him, not forcing him in any way, but making it obvious how good Paul was making him feel by the expression on his gorgeous face and the way his fingers gripped the sheets. Paul smiled to himself and licked his lips. He could hardly believe he was going to do it. Sure, he’d done it before, but it had gone wrong then. This was his chance to let John know that he could do it and that he wasn’t useless like Stuart had implied.

            A shiver ran up John’s spine as he suddenly felt a wet heath surrounding his hard on and suction making him slide further and further, over the rubbery thing which John supposed was a tongue until he hit the back of his throat and a gagging sound filled his ears. He felt lips pull the foreskin back and slide over the shaft and when Paul start to really suck, he couldn’t hold back the cry in his throat any longer. He was inside of Paul’s mouth. Paul was blowing him off. John knew he wouldn’t be able to last very long. Paul tongue swirled around the tip of his cock as Paul pulled back slowly until only the head lay on his tongue. Paul held his cock up to meet his mouth with one hand as the other cupped his balls and started to roll them around. John bit his lip hard to keep himself from crying out with pleasure. Paul’s tongue movements were wonderful. John noticed Paul had gotten better since the last time. His sucks were less hard and forceful, his tongue massaged his dick rather than pressed against or swept over. Paul’s lips were still plump and when Paul hollowed his cheeks, his entire cock was surrounded by wet hotness.

‘Fucking hell, Macca.’ John cried out as Paul let his tongue slide under his foreskin and swirled it around the head quickly. Paul smiled and let John slide back down as far into his throat as he could, getting nearly everything in except perhaps an inch or two. He groaned and grabbed Paul’s hair tightly and held him in place so that he wouldn’t shoot his load right there and then.

            Paul jumped a little as he felt John pull his hair, moving his mouth off him just a little. For a second he thought he had been doing it wrong, that he had read the signs wrong, but when he tasted John’s precum, which was now almost streaming down, he knew that was far from the truth. Silently, Paul thanked Ringo, which felt odd, but he knew it was the right thing to do. Paul kept on sucking but held still as John began to move his hips up after a few seconds of catching his breath. He heard John chant his name over and over again like a mantra as he tried to press down against all the sensitive spots he could remember.

‘SHIT! Paul…’ John breathed, a little louder than Paul would have liked for the time of day and the place where they were, as he thrusted his hips up and pushed his cock completely down his throat, making Paul gag; tears filled the young man’s eyes.

‘So good, Macca.’ John moaned again. Paul hummed in reply to let John know he had understood, but gagged again as John thrusted up into his mouth again.

‘Sorry… Don’t… fuck… don’t hum….’ John breathed as he tried to restrain himself from fucking Paul’s mouth completely. Paul smirked to himself and hummed again. He was surprised when he felt John’s cock twitch in his mouth and felt hot streams of a creamy, bitter and salty substance slide down his throat. Paul swallowed in order not to gag. John cursed as he came and withered for a second of the intensity of it all. Paul waited patiently and tried to figure out why John’s cum had something quite tasty to it, while it really shouldn’t. He kept on swallowing until John was finished and then started to lick the man clean, catching John looking down at him with flushed cheeks and messy hair. The man looked utterly shag-able.

            John caught his breath as he continued to watch Paul with wide eyes as the man licked all the remains off his dick and swallowed it as he looked into his eyes. If anything John had expected to happen when he’d come here, then it certainly hadn’t been this. Paul mouth had been… wonderfully good. It had been the only place he’d wanted to be at the time and even now, if it hadn’t been for the fact that he was that tired, he would have waited to be there again and enjoy and explore it even more. The first time Paul had sucked him off, it had been good already and far better than he had hoped for, much better than himself had been his first, second and even third time. Paul seemed to be some kind of natural at it and John was more than grateful for the fact that it was him who the man wanted to please and no one else.

‘Shit, Paul.’ John breathed with a laugh as he let his head fall back into the pillow again. He felt Paul pull himself off him and move up higher until he felt Paul’s lips against his own. He could taste himself as he opened his mouth for Paul’s tongue.

‘Hmm..’ John moaned into Paul’s mouth and Paul pulled back with a drowsy looking smile on his face.

‘Good enough for ya?’ He asked. John noticed he tried to sound smug, but he caught some nervousness and insecurity in his voice, like a little tremble.

‘God, Paul. You have no idea.’ He answered with a big, goofy smile before cupping Paul’s cheeks and pecking him on the lips, making Paul blush. John pulled back when he had to yawn.

‘Tired?’ Paul asked. John nodded and closed his eyes for a second.

‘We could go to sleep. If you want to.’ Paul offered sweetly as he laid down with his chin on John’s naked chest. John opened an eye and looked down.

‘What about you?’

‘I’m fine. I’m tired as well. And besides, I’d rather have you falling asleep now than when you’re at it.’ John laughed and nuzzled his nose into Paul’s brown locks.

‘No hard feelings?’ He checked as he took in Paul’s scent. He smelled of coconut. Probably his shampoo.

‘No, You can make up ones we wake up again.’ Paul said and closed his eyes as well as he held onto John and listened to his slowly calming heartbeat.

‘Alright then.’ John muttered and soon fell fast asleep with Paul in his arms, lying on his chest and his nose buried in his hair.

‘I love you.’ Paul spoke with a yawn, but John already didn’t hear anymore.

            ‘Ugh, dang it John. Just let me cum already.’ Paul begged as he trashed on the bed. John  laughed wickedly and shook his head as he dragged his nail up the base of Paul’s leaking and twitching cock.

‘Tell me.’

‘No! Just… fuck!’ Paul bit down his lip hard enough to draw a little blood and moved his hips with John’s hand, wishing more friction.

‘Tell. Me.’ John repeated.

‘Just once.’ Paul answered, his voice low and sounding rather tired.

‘Don’t lie to me.’ John snapped and squeezed Paul’s balls hard.

‘FUCK! Okay, okay. Yes… Damn it, yes. Shit… a lot…’

‘How many times?’ John asked.

‘I don’t know…’ Paul breathed and licked the dripping blood from his lip.

‘Too many?’

‘Far too many.’ Paul groaned.

‘Who else?’ John asked.

‘John please… no more… I need too… ugh…’

‘Who. Else.’

‘No one. Just.. ugh… Elvis.’

‘How about me?’ Paul suddenly fell silent and he opened his eyes in shock and their eyes locked. A blush crept onto Paul’s cheek. John stilled his hand.

‘Every day…’ Paul answered quietly. John’s lips twitched as if he wanted to smile. He leaned in and brushed his lips against his boyfriends.

‘Good.’ He said and gave Paul’s cock a rough pull. Paul came, his cry muffled into John’s warm and welcome mouth. John let Paul ride it out and then brought his hand up to Paul’s lips. Paul immediately went to work. John felt his own cock twitch. At that moment John decided that watched Paul lick off the remaining cum, was his favourite thing to do.

            ‘Morning, dad!’ Paul said cheerfully as he entered the kitchen and sat down at the table. John followed closely behind and looked down nervously. He was nearly one hundred per cent sure Paul’s dad knew what they had been up to. They hadn’t exactly tried to keep quiet.

‘Oh! Morning, Paul. John.’ Jim said as he got two slices of toast out of the toaster and gave one to his other son, who was reading some kind of book as he eat his breakfast. The younger McCartney son was already fully dressed and his camera lay besides his plate, waiting for him to finish.

‘Morning Mr McCartney.’ John said politely as he took a seat next to Paul, who had grabbed the newspaper, ‘Morning Mike.’

‘Hmm.’ Mike hummed as he continued to fill his mouth with toast. Paul glanced sideways at John and smiled, as if to say he was doing fine. John smiled back weakly. 

‘Would you like any toast, John? A cup of tea?’ Jim suddenly asked him. John looked up and nodded.

‘Yes, please.’

‘I thought you might.’ Was the reply John got. The boys glanced at each other again, hoping the other would say that Jim hadn’t heard.

‘Me too, dad. Thanks.’ Paul said as he continued to hold John’s gaze. John shrugged and finally looked away as Jim McCartney turned back around and put down two mugs of tea for the two boys.

‘You’re aunt knows you’re here, I hope.’ He asked John. John nodded.

‘Yeah, she does.’

‘Good, we don’t want her getting worried now, do we?’ Jim said with a wink. John laughed politely and nodded.

‘That’s true.’

‘Because you can’t let someone who cares about you, loves you even, maybe, worry about you. A man does have his responsibilities.’ Jim said a little too lightly. Mike stopped eating, if you could call it eating and looked up at his brother and friend with open mouth. Paul bit his tongue and waited, knowing what his dad was on about.

‘But I’m sure you’ve figured that out already, haven’t you?’ Jim asked John. John nodded.

‘Yes, I have. And a gentleman has many more responsibilities than just that, doesn’t he? Because he also needs to know how to take care of the one he loves and do that. In every possible way.’ John said suggestively. Jim nodded with a grin.

‘I agree. But then again. He also needs to know where, when and to what extent. Also, he needs to know when to keep _quiet_.’ He said. Paul nearly choked on his tea  and Mike was staring from Paul to John to his father and back again. John swallowed thickly and blushed as he nodded yes, vigorously.

‘Keep that in mind next time you plan to spend the night here.’ Jim added.

‘Y-yes, sir.’ John spoke and Paul stared at his father as he walked out with a smug grin.

John turned his head to look at his boyfriend with big eyes. Then Mike burst out laughing.

‘Your faces are priceless.’ He said as he stood up and took his camera. Paul and John turned their eyes away from each other and stared at Michael, who grinned and quickly snapped a photo of them.

‘He is right, you know.’ Michael spoke, ‘Bloody loud you  two were.’ Paul blushed and looked down into his mug and took another sip. Mike shook his head and headed to the door. ‘And Paul?’ He asked as he reached it, ‘Elvis? Seriously?’

‘Shut it, Mike. He’s voice is wonderful and you know it.’

‘Yes, but I didn’t know it could turn you on.’ Mike replied with a laugh.

‘You’re the one who wanks to Doris Day.’ Paul shot back.

‘No, I don’t!’

‘Of course not.’ John said, sarcasm dripping off the words.

‘Well, at least I can get a girl. Now, if you’ll need someone to take pics… Please don’t ask me.’ He said before he turned and walked away. Three seconds later they heard the door slam shut. John and Paul turned to look at each other again.

‘Well…’ Paul started, ‘It could have been a lot worse.’ He said. John laughed and nodded before giving Paul a sweet little kiss on his lips.

‘Yes, at least he didn’t kick me out.’ He joked as they broke apart.

‘I told you, he wouldn’t.’

‘Oh, you’re so clever.’

‘Thank you.’ Another kiss.

* * *

 

‘Paulie?’ John asked as they walked over the streets to George’s house with their guitars hung across their backs.

‘My birthday is coming up.’ John continued as Paul didn’t say anything and just kept walking, eyes on the ground, hands in his pockets. Paul nodded lightly at John’s words, but didn’t look up.

‘I know.’ He replied.

 

‘Nineteen.’ John continued, ‘Nineteen. That’s a proper age, isn’t it Paul?’

‘I’m sure that it is John. Just like all the other ages, this one is also real.’ Paul replied.

‘Nineteen. You would probably get great presents when you turn nineteen. Not like when you turn seventeen or fifteen or something.’ Paul shrugged.

‘If you say so.’

‘I mean, it’s me nineteenth birthday. I’ll be a proper man then. And proper men need proper presents when it’s their birthday, don’t they?’ John pressed on. Paul looked up with a smirk and shook his head.

‘I’m not going to have sex with you just because it’s your birthday, John. You shall just have to be happy with a record and a new guitar pick or something.’ He said before quickening his pace and walking away from his boyfriend so he wouldn’t see the love-struck smile that lingered on his lips. John slowed down and grinned to himself, before running after the man with that ass of which he could never take his eyes off.

‘We’ll see.’ He muttered softly to himself.

            ‘Paul! John! Come in, lads. Come in. Georgie and Richard are already waiting for you two. Here let me take your coats. Is it cold outside? Do you want a cuppa to warm up? I’m sure you do. Now, don’t just stand there and takes those coats off.’ George’s mum greeted them as she opened the door and quickly pulled them inside. John smirked at Paul and took his guitar from him to put them down carefully before George’s mum could get her hands on them.

‘Thank you, Mrs Harrison. Tea would be lovely, thank you.’ Paul said with a charming voice which he always used to charm parents and teachers or just people who could be helpful. John himself was not half as manipulative as Paul, and they both knew it, but Paul still had that boyish innocence over him that handed him a great advantage and coverage. John grinned knowingly to himself as he heard Paul ask Mrs Harrison if she got a new dress, to which the woman blushed and thanked him for noticing. The woman turned to him to take his jacket and hung his and Paul’s on a peg before leaving to get them a cup of tea.

‘Looks like she fancies you, Macca.’ John whispered with a grin on his face as he pushed past his boyfriend to head to the living room where George and Ringo would be waiting for them.

‘Very funny, John.’ Paul replied as he followed his boyfriend.

‘Oh come on, Paul. With a mere brush of your fingers against his arm, she would be putty in your hands.’

‘John, that’s disgusting. That’s George’s mum we’re talking about.’

‘Eh! Don’t blame me. You’re the one who’s wooing her, not me.’ John snapped back with a playful snicker. Paul just gave him a look before pecking his cheek.

‘Jealousy suits you.’ He whispered and he turned on his heel and walked into the living room, John following quickly behind with a proud grin on his face.

            As the two lads came into the living room, they saw Ringo and George sitting not even an inch away from each other. The two men moved away from the each other quickly, their cheeks flushed and lips wet.

‘Relax, It’s only us.’ John said with a knowing grin on his face. Paul chuckled and sat down next to the two on the big cough and places his guitar on his lap. John sat down on a chair and did the same. George and Ringo blushed an even deeper shade of red and eyed each other.

‘So…’ Ringo started after an awkward silence, ‘How are things between you two then. Seems like everything is alright again.’ John and Paul grinned at each other.

‘Yeah, but I think Paul’s going to cheat on me. Your mum seems to have the hots for him, Geo.’ John said teasingly.

‘Oh, fuck you.’ Paul shot back.

‘Not with other people in the room, darling.’ John replied with a wink and Paul just rolled with his eyes.

            ‘Has he been like this all day, then?’ George asked as he handed Paul two beers. Paul nodded and placed them on the kitchen counter.

‘Hmm… For most of the time. Just this teasing the whole time. It’s not that I mind, it just got me worried.’ He said. George nodded and got two more and placed those on the counter as well as he kicked the door of the fridge close with his foot.

‘I think he’s just nervous. You guys just made up. He’s just nervous and he doesn’t want to lose you.’ George told his close friend. Paul shrugged and leaned against the table as he watched George all four of the cans in his hands.

‘Nah. He just wants to sleep with me.’ Paul joked,’ Shouldn’t I take two?’ George looked down at the cans in his hands and offered Paul two.

‘Probably would be more plausible that he hadn’t just spend five minutes gossiping. We really are the birds in our relationships, aren’t we?’ George said with a laugh.

‘I suppose so. If you put it that way.’

            ‘Well, why don’t you just ask him, then?’ Ringo offered as he sat back on the couch and waited for the two youngest to return with the drinks.

‘I can’t just ask him that!’ John replied as he drank the last of the tea Mrs Harrison had brought him and Paul. It had gone nearly cold, but at least a little drinkable.

‘Why not? You do it with girls.’ Ringo said.

‘Yes, but Paul isn’t a bird, is he?’ John snapped back. Ringo sighed.

‘I guess. But you can’t just keep hinting at it. It will only confuse him and it won’t do you both any good.’ He said.

‘You are really helpful, you know.’ John replied sarcastically. Ringo winked at him.

‘I try my best.’

            ‘So, how are things between you and Richie, then?’ Paul asked, not wanting to talk about John any longer. George sighed and opened a beer which he handed to Paul.

‘Fine. Just fine. Always fine.’ He said in a dull tone.

‘You don’t sound fine.’ Paul joked. George gave him a look.

‘It’s just…’ George looked around to see if no one was near, ‘I mean the sex is fine, you know. But… it’s _fine._ You know?’ Paul shook his head and took a sip.

‘I… I always liked… you know… pain. Well, not pain per se, but… _need_. And he doesn’t show me that he _needs_ me. It’s all nice and sweet, but there no _need_.’ George tried to explain with a blush creeping on his face.

‘Passion?’

‘No. Passion is plenty. Just… I want to _feel_ it, you know. I want to _feel_ his hands on me and _feel_ his teeth nibble at my flesh. I want _feel_ him. To know that I’m the one who he wants and that he needs me and wants me.’ George tried again. Paul grinned.

‘You want him to hurt you.’ Paul clarified. George sighed and nodded.

‘Is that weird?’ He asked as he leaned closer to his friend.

‘Probably not. I don’t know. I never really had that, but I can see what you mean.’ Paul answered, ‘Supposedly there are people who are into even stranger things.’

‘I guess…’ George agreed. He bit his lip.

‘It’s just all so damn fine.’ George repeated again with disgust in his  voice, making Paul laugh.

            ‘It’s like he doesn’t like it, you know. Well, he likes it but not as much as I do. It’s like he misses something, but I can’t figure out what.’ Ringo said as he ruffled his hair in his hands.

‘Maybe he wants to be in charge?’ John offered as he glanced at the kitchen door. Paul and George were taking quite a long time.

‘Ha! I wish! No, I tried once, but he wouldn’t do it.’ Ringo replied, ‘What if it’s me?’ John shook his head.

‘Doubt it. He seems quite taking with you. Paul and him were on the phone for hours talking about you and how happy he was.’ John said.

‘When was that?’

‘Three weeks ago? We went out to buy some stuff. You bought that nice shirt in that little shop in Blackpool.’  John said.

‘Oh right. And we went to have lunch at the docks. It was nice. We should do that again sometime.’ Ringo offered. John thought about it before nodding.

‘Yeah, we should. And maybe that attractive waiter will still be there. We have a better change in running into him if go the same day of the week.’ He said.

‘True. He was attractive, wasn’t he? Man, that bum.’ Ringo said with a dreamy smile.

‘Not as nice as Paulie’s bum.’ John said with the same sort smile. Ringo laughed and John blushed.

‘We’re so the women in our relationships.’ John spoke and shook his head.

‘I’ll drink to that.’ Ringo replied.

‘If our drink will still come?’

            ‘Paul?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Do you have any strange fetishes?’ George asked  as he opened his second can. Paul shrugged and drank the last of his first.

‘John’s thighs are great. And his hands. And his feet. I’d like to suck on those toes.’ Paul said dryly. George laughed and handed Paul another beer.

‘I didn’t know you were the kind of guy who was into that kind of thing.’ He said. Paul shrugged and thanked him for the beer with a wink.

‘That makes two of us, then.’ He said.

            ‘I think Paul has a feet fetish, though.’ John spoke suddenly. Ringo looked up with a surprised look on his face.

‘Sorry?’ he asked.

‘Paul. Foot-fetish. I think he wants to suck on my toes.’ John said. Ringo laughed.

‘What makes you think that?’ He asked.

‘Dunno. Just have that feeling, you know. He always looks at them when we make out.’ John answered. Ringo cocked his head and shrugged.

‘Well, you might never know.’ He said. John shrugged too.

            ‘Paul does not really fancy George’s mum, does he?’ Ringo suddenly asked out of the blue. John laughed and shook his head.

‘Nah. Was just messing with him.’ He said. Ringo nodded.

‘Good.’

            ‘Do you think they’re making out in there or something?’ John asked, nodding with his head towards the door to the kitchen. Ringo looked too and shrugged.

‘Could be. Have been gone a long time.’ He said. John nodded.

‘Yeah, but couldn’t they have chosen another time? I mean, he should be practicing for the gig next Saturday.’ He said.

‘Probably. But maybe it’s a secret and we can’t know and this is their way of doing secretly.’ Ringo said.

‘Doing it secretly? You’re not suggesting they’re fucking in there, right?’ John asked, looking shocked at his rather close friend.

‘Doubt it, if Paul doesn’t even want to fuck you,’ Ringo replied, ‘But don’t tell me the thought of them fucking doesn’t turn you on.’ John turned his head to grin at him. Ringo grinned back.

‘Wanna watch?’

            ‘I can’t believe those were the last four!’ George exclaimed as he threw his hands up in the air.

‘Have you searched the lower drawer. Behind the coleslaw.’

‘Why should it be there?’ George asked. Paul shrugged.

‘Don’t ask me. It’s your fridge not mine.’

‘It’s Ma’s fridge.’ George shot back.

‘Well, there you go.’ Paul said with a playful grin. George shook his head and reached behind the coleslaw. What he got out were hour small cans of beer.

‘I told you so.’ Paul said. He couldn’t help himself. 

* * *

 

‘That’s it?’ John asked as he stared down at the four most miniature cans of beer he’d ever seen and his boyfriend and friend had just put down in front of them.

‘Yeah, so?’ Paul asked as he let himself fall down onto the couch next to John.

‘There tiny!’ Ringo exclaimed before John had even opened his mouth.

 

‘Exactly!’ John agreed quickly.

‘Well, that’s not our fault. You shall just have to be happy with it.’ Paul told the two older men as he grabbed one for himself.

‘You two have spent nearly half an hour in the kitchen and you came back with this?!’ John continued, ignoring Paul’s words.

‘Oh, I’m sorry to disappointed His Royal Majesty The King, but this is all you’re going to get.’ Paul said with a grin. John pouted at him.

‘B-but, Paulie…’ He whined. Paul just rolled his eyes and opened his drink and took a sip as he turned to George who sat down on the other, smaller couch.

‘Ugh, fine. But next time I won’t be as forgiving. The king needs his beer.’ John spoke with a grumpy voice as he grabbed one for himself as well.

            ‘So, Saturday.’ George said, his voice full with excitement as he rubbed his hands together and leaned forward a bit over his guitar.

‘Yes… The day we’ll write history.’ John said with a happy and equally excited grin.

‘The day we’ll get on the train with the toppermost of the poppermost as its final destination.’ Ringo agreed with a happy laughter.

‘If we don’t blow it.’ Paul interrupted. John groaned and rubbed his forehead.

‘Ugh, you’re spoiling it, Mr McRealistic.’ He moaned tiredly.

‘Very original, John.  But if we suck, we’ve blown our best and probably last serious chance.’

‘And I thought Paul was the optimistic one of the two.’ Ringo snickered. Paul and John, both shot him a look, but kept quiet. George decided to take things into his own hands for once.

‘Alright. What’s gonna be our songlist?’ He asked as he got some paper and a pen.

‘I say we start with Raunchy, as something of a warm-up and then get really started with Searchin’. Good idea?’ George said, his pen already raised and ready to write the song names down.

‘But that’s Paul’s song!’ John exclaimed. Paul cocked and eyebrow.

‘So?’ he asked.

‘Well… Paul, You’re fantastic and all, but it’s my band and I want to go first.’

‘It doesn’t matter who goes first.’ Ringo said quickly as Paul opened his mouth to say something, probably rude, back.

‘Yes it does!’ Paul and John both exclaimed as the turned to the older man.

‘Well, I don’t care who goes first.’ Ringo tried.

‘And we do!’

‘Alright we’ll let John do Rock n Roll Music, then. That better?’ George tried.

‘No.’ Paul answered straight away.

‘And why not?’ John asked.

‘Same reason as why you didn’t want my song to start. I want to go first.’

‘You’re pathetic.’

‘You are!’

‘You both are.’

‘Both sing then.’

‘Alright we’ll start with Some Other Guy.’

‘Yeah… whatever.’ Paul said with an indifferent wave of his hand.

‘Can I still pull out?’ Ringo asked as he rubbed his temples.

‘No.’ The other three replied in perfect harmony. The four of them burst out into laughter.

            ‘That went well, didn’t it?’ Ringo asked as he closed the door behind the two other Beatles close. George shrugged and turned, walking back into the living room. Ringo followed quickly.

‘Come on, George. We have the songs, even a few new ones; we have our act together; we have our speeches ready for the future manager; we even practised harder than ever, without a single moan. Nothing can go wrong now.’ Ringo pressed on. George sighed deeply and let a hand run through his hair as he stood in the middle of the room, obviously not knowing what to do.

‘I just hope he’ll take us.’ He spoke softly. Ringo sighed and moved over to his younger boyfriend. He rested his hands on the man’s slim hips.

‘He will.’ He spoke as softly as a whispered before closing the gap between them and pressing his lips against George’s soothingly, but hard. George smiled into the kiss and moaned happily, enjoying the older man’s obvious excitement.

             Ringo let George carefully and quietly up the stairs. George’s parents were already in bed and the last thing he wanted was to wake them up and get caught. Who’d know what would happen then. George however, didn’t seem at all too upset about the situation. He was giggling drunkenly, and Ringo guessed he was a bit with all the beer he had been drinking, and clutching at Ringo’s clothing, nearly tearing it off, as he placed sweet little butterfly kisses all over Ringo’s mouth, face, neck, chest and shoulders. The attention gave Ringo a warm and fuzzy feeling inside and all he wanted to do was take this boy into his arms and ravish him until he would cry. But that would awake the whole house, so that plan was off the table. George’s save and small bedroom was the second best and so he had to do with that.

            George’s hands were cupping his face and massaging his chest and he continued to kiss him as they stumbled up the stairs. Ringo really tried to keep quiet and was managing fine, if it wasn’t for George’s clumsiness. He just hoped that the boy’s parents wouldn’t think anything of it, or better still, not hear it at all. Ringo wrapped his arms tightly around the boy’s skinny frame and lifted him up. He quickly stepped up that last couple of steps before hurrying for the door. George, despite his age and slender, nearly bony physique, was still rather heavy. He was just in time by the bed, the door closed behind them, to let them both fall onto it and curl up into each other’s arms, enjoying each other’s warmth and comforting touch.

            ‘So what were you and George talking about, then?’ John asked as they walked to Paul’s house. His own wasn’t that far off, so it was only proper to bring him home safely. John turned to look at Paul as he awaited his answer. Paul shrugged.

‘You were gone for half an hour.’ John added when he realised Paul wouldn’t speak.

‘Nothing. Just… you know… Richie, you, the band.’ Paul said with another shrug.

‘You were discussing us?’ John asked. Paul  turned to look at him and smiled.

‘Should I be worried?’ John asked with half a smile, like he wasn’t sure whether he was making a joke or not. Paul shook his head and chuckled.

‘Not at all.’ He spoke before leaning in, kissing his boyfriend’s cheek.

            When John didn’t awake with Paul lying next to him, his hot breath caressing his cheek as his fingers curled around his shirt, he felt cold. Not that it was cold. It just felt cold. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands and groaned loudly.

‘Fuck…’ He told himself, ‘You’re pathetic, already missing him. You’ve seen him only eight hours ago. You’ve felt his lips only eight hours ago. You can’t be serious.’ John quickly got out of bed, splashed his face with some water and surprised his aunt by being on time to have breakfast and still be on time at school. His aunt nearly had a hard attack. It made John chuckle softly to himself.

            ‘Morning, John.’ John heard that annoying female voice again as he threw some of his stuff in his locker. He didn’t have to turn to know who it was.

‘Would you please fuck off.’

‘I needed to ask you something.’

‘Fuck off, I’m busy.’ John snapped at the girl.

‘Are you queer?’ The girl asked, her eyes ten times as big as they normally were and it made John’s heart stop.

            Paul didn’t look for John the next day at school. It was strange how different the night had felt without having John wrapped around him to keep him save and warm. He was still cold. Had been since he’d left his bed. Besides, he had other things that needed to be done and they didn’t involve smoking with some goofy-ass character. Well… he actually didn’t… not really…

            ‘What? Me?’ John asked with a laugh. The girl narrowed her eyes at him.

‘Yes. I mean, why else would you still tell me to piss off if you weren’t gay? You are spending a lot of time with that boy. Paul.’ She answered with a daring tone in her voice.

‘Change your personality and ask again, luv.’ John said with a pitiful smile before turning around and walking away.

             John had locked himself in the toilet. He needed to think. That girl, what was here name, she could be quite dangerous. She wasn’t stupid, John knew. She had asked him about Paul. Asked him if he was queer even. If she would find out, they would be done for. Him and Paul… They needed to be more careful. There was no other option. People started to notice… Not only the girl. John could feel it.

            John didn’t call Paul that day. He had waited for him at school. But Paul had been talking and joking with George. They had rode their bikes into the direction to Paul’s house. John hadn’t gone after them. Paul hadn’t even noticed him. Besides, it was going well again, he shouldn’t worry Paul with his crazy thoughts. Paul wasn’t stupid. He knew how dangerous this thing between the two of them was. That there were terrible consequences if the wrong person would find out. Paul deserved some rest. The boy seemed tired. He needed to get his rest for Saturday. It was best not to bother him. John had watched the two until they had turned the corner and been out of his side. Then he had turned and took the buss home. Mimi would be waiting for him with tea.

            The other days of the week went smoothly. John had called Paul once and they had talked for hours until Mimi had ripped the phone out of his hands and send him upstairs. The next day he and Paul met at Strawberry Fields after school. They had smoked there, played a little and made out in the bushes like before. John couldn’t get enough of the beautiful boy, whose kisses made his head spin. Even the slightest once. Paul’s fingers had felt wonderful on his skin and Paul had needed to shave, meaning their stubbles were brushing against each other. It didn’t feel half as bad as one would expect. Paul had told him about Ringo and George while he had laid with his head on John’s chest, playing with the green grass that slowly started to turn brown. They had laid there like that until it had started to get dark. Then they both said goodbye and left for their own home.

            That had been Thursday. It was Saturday morning now. Just another few hours and he needed to head for the Cavern. He arose and took a long shower, changed into his clothes, had breakfast and went to play the whole gig three times before  Mimi called that Paul was at the door.

‘John! You’re little friend is here!’ She shouted and before he could answer he already heard Paul coming up the stairs. It was time…


	10. Chapter 10

It was crazy busy at The Cavern. Paul could hardly believe this was all happening. He was incredibly nervous. His knees were trembling under the weight of his body and he was certain that if anyone would brush against him, he would fall flat on his nose. That wouldn’t be very good. Performing with a bloody nose. John would kill him.

 

            Not that he was doing any better. Paul could see him. He was chewing his lips, squeezing his fists, and trying to hide it by putting them in the pockets of his trousers, and wiggling about while humming the songs they would play, which drove everyone who walked by him nuts. Paul wanted to head over to him, talk to him and reassure him that everything would be alright. Maybe give him a quick kiss for good luck. But he wasn’t sure if he could manage to walk so many feet without either fainting or falling or harming himself in any other way. God, he was nervous.

            ‘You alright?’ George asked him out of nowhere. Paul’s head snapped to its left, where George was leaning against the wall next to him, lighting up two smokes. One he handed to him and Paul took it without saying as much as “thank you”. George understood.

‘Yeah, me too. I’ll throw up on that stage.’ He said with a nervous chuckle. Paul smiled weakly and looked around the room. John was now facing the wall and talking to himself. Or so Paul guessed. He couldn’t actually see him, with John’s back facing him. He moved his eyes further on. Richie was talking with some girl.

‘Richie doesn’t seem to have any trouble.’ Paul noted to his friend.

‘Hmm? Oh, no that’s far from the truth. He’s so nervous, we had sex three times already since we got here.’ George replied with a naughty wink. Paul laughed at that and continued to watch Ringo.

‘How did you guys manage to do that. John and I haven’t missed ya, and we’ve only been here for an hour or so. Less even!’ he said.

‘Yeah, well. He’s a right beast and nervousness doesn’t seem to have any effect on his libido. And if it does, it only makes it better. That’s for sure. Besides, I’m not complaining. Right damn rough he gets when he’s like this.’ George whispered softly to Paul before taking a drag.

‘You’re such a slut.’

‘Shut up.’ Paul grinned and took a drag, letting the nicotine relax his nerves.

‘At least I let my boyfriend have some fun in bed.’ George whispered into Paul’s ear. Paul shrugged.

‘I might as well.’ He spoke, not bothering to keep his voice down.

‘What? When?’ George asked, obviously very shocked with the fact that his best mate had hidden this extremely important fact from him.

‘Tonight. If he’s lucky and this goes well.’ Paul said with a smile before pushing himself away from the wall and walking over to the said boyfriend with a lot more confidence than he actually had.

            ‘How are you doing, then?’ Paul asked as he leaned against the wall next to his boyfriend. John looked up with a half meant smile.

‘What do you think?’ John asked him sarcastically.

‘John, we’re all nervous. It’s only…’ Paul tried.

‘I know! It’s just… this is what I’ve dreamed of since the moment I first heard The King sing through me little radio, Macca.’ John replied. Paul sighed and put out his ciggy against the dirty wall.

‘It’s really getting close now, isn’t it? This all. Not much of a dream anymore, huh?’ Paul smiled weakly. John sighed and nodded.

‘Yeah. Pretty amazing, isn’t it?’

‘Indeed it is.’ Paul said before taking a quick look around and pressing a sweet kiss on John’s lips. A kiss for good luck, Paul thought happily.

            ‘Ready guys?’

‘Never been more, Johnny!’

            Paul’s heart was racing in his chest, his fingers were wrapped tightly around the neck of his guitar, his knees felt like jelly, his mind was woozy, and yet, his fingers didn’t as much as tremble as he plucked the proper strings in the exact right order with perfect timing. George was doing not so bad either. His finger plucking was near-perfect and by the way he was moving so freely on the stage, ciggy in his mouth, a can of beer next to their microphone, George seemed so much older, Paul noticed. Of course the gear they were wearing, their leather gear, helped a lot as well. John was flirting a little with a girl in the front row, who was probably the only girl he could see without his glasses, but didn’t miss one single chord, and Ringo was drumming as if his life depended on it. They were on fire.

            Paul kept looking around for a guy in a suit and some posh appearance, which he had suspected would stand out, but it didn’t. He couldn’t find anyone who fitted that description. He had to know if the guy was there. He _had_ to be there. Or else this would all be for nothing. Well, not nothing, but not for what they had hoped. The crowd, however, went wild.  Girls were screaming, guys were singing along and even the barman couldn’t help but whistle along as he served everyone without a moan. Even when a guy broke a glass, he didn’t as much as swear. Paul felt amazing.

Then suddenly, a guy appeared in the doorway. Paul’s breath stocked and he missed a couple of notes, getting a rather annoyed look from John from across the stage and a raised eyebrow from George. He didn’t care. Brown, fancy hair, little pig eyes, black, tailored suit with a black tie and fancy dress shoes. The man seemed about ten years older than them and looked definitely out of place. In his hand he held something that seemed like a notebook, in which he scribbled something once in a while as he gave the place a good look over. Paul’s throat tightened as the man’s gaze landed on them. The man squeezed his eyes, as if to see them more proper, and scribbled something down again before beckoning a guy next to him to follow him. The guy only shook his head and turned around. The man seemed to say something, but the other just shook his head and walked away the way he came in. The man with the notebook watched him walk away, before turning back to the stage and walking a little closer, taking a seat at a table where some other boys and girls were singing along while drinking and flirting with each other. Paul took a deep breath and tried to focus on his playing. He was here.

            ‘John! He’s here! He. Is. Here! The guy! Our soon-to-be-manager!’ Paul screamed at his boyfriend as he came backstage. John immediately turned back around with a big grin on his face and a twinkle in his eyes and peeked into the audience.

‘What where? I can’t see anything!’ He exclaimed excitedly.

‘That’s because you’re not wearing your glasses, you fool. You know you’re as blind as a bat without them.’ George shouted over the loud music with a grin.

‘Fuck off, Harrison.’ John replied. Paul laughed and moved over to his boyfriend.

‘There,’ He said as he reached over and pointed at the table were the man was sitting, ‘At the table with a bird in yellow dress. He’s writing in a notebook.’

‘Oh, a notebook. How fancy.’ Ringo joked.

‘Shut up!’ John and Paul both shot back at the same time. They turned to look at each other before bursting out in laughter.

            ‘He looks rather posh, though, doesn’t he?’ John asked as he combed back his hair. Paul shrugged and fixed his own hair with some gel and his fingers.

‘I guess, can’t be bad though. Good for the image. Get more gigs and more money and stuff.’ He replied. John bit his lip.

‘Yeah, but… I’m not sure if he’ll get it, you know. The leather and stuff.’

‘We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?’ Paul answered with a smile.

            The second part of the gig went great as well. Though, they started to get tired already, probably from all the excitement and the relieve that the guy had turned up, they still didn’t know his name… They had agreed to let Ringo sing this part. Boys, he sang. He did it great. Better than Pete, Paul had to admit. Ringo was better than Pete in every way. He was nicer, fitted in better, had better humour, George like him better in more ways than one, his drummer was odd but better and even his singing was better, even though he didn’t have much range. Besides, the crowed seemed to like him, even though a few still seemed to object to Pete not being there anymore. Paul heard some people speculating over where Stuart was. Some bloke came up with a story that John had killed him because he had touched his guitar! God, Paul thought to himself, rumours  already! Nothing was going to stop them now.

‘Alright, ladies and laddies. Next we’ll play Long Tall Sally, sung by McCharmly here!’ John shouted through a mic. Paul grinned and stepped up. Now it was time to really get this gig going. He drank the last of his beer before grabbing the microphone and shouting the first line of the song in it. Birds cheered him on. He winked at one of them. She blushed. Paul smirked. Up to the toppermost of the poppermost!

            It was over. Finally. Energy had drained out of them on that stage and all that was left of them were four sweaty, half drunk, giggly, wobbly and most of all exhausted boys with their shirts sticking to their chest and hair to their foreheads.

‘Fuck! That went well!’  John exclaimed as he let himself fall down onto a couch. They had been given a small room above the club to dump their stuff and hang out and change after the gig. Probably in the hope they would come down into the club once more that evening, instead of leaving straight away. Not that they were going to. Paul felt as if he was close to death, and besides, if John was up to it, he had other ideas for tonight. He had managed to get his father and brother out of the house. At least, for some time. Paul realised now that he hadn’t even looked for them in the audience. They had said they would come and watch, seeing what was at stake. Paul sighed, took off his jacket and shirt and collapsed on the couch next to John. He pushed his hair out of his face with a tired puff.

‘Yeah, it did! Now, let’s hope that guy thought so too.’ George replied as he came in through the door and closed it behind him.

‘Oh, he will.’ Paul said.

‘And how are you so sure?’ Ringo asked as he too took of his jacket and shirt. Paul snickered to himself as he saw George staring shamelessly at the sight. Ringo didn’t even notice, his boyfriend goggling him with hungry eyes. He turned to John and caught him doing the same. Immediately his eyes shot back up as he noticed Paul was looking at him. Paul leaned in and pressed a kiss on the man’s lips.

‘I just have that feeling.’ Paul answered to Ringo’s question as their lips parted.

            Neither of the boys felt much for getting dressed, feeling exhausted and sticky and hot still, so they didn’t. Paul laid sprawled across the cough, bare-chested, only wearing pants, no socks or shoes, smoking a ciggy as he stared up at his boyfriend through half-lidded eyes. His chest was raising and falling with the slow rhythm of his breathing. John, however, wasn’t wearing anything apart from a pair of black boxers and socks and his glasses, which Paul much appreciated and showed with little touches as John came near enough. John was walking about, nervous about what was going to happen and tried to take his mind off everything by reading the newspaper. George was actually splashing water over his body and face, trying to clean himself up a little, while Ringo was looking around for something that would do for a towel. Until now he hadn’t had much luck.

‘Maybe you should just lick it all off, Richie?’ Paul offered as he once again let his fingers run over John’s thighs, under the leg of the man’s boxers. John grinned down at his boyfriend and Paul winked, before taking his hand back.

‘As much as I would like that, Paul. I don’t think it would be sufficient enough. Besides, it would only result in getting him dirty again.’ Ringo answered. Paul laughed and rolled onto his tummy, burying his face in the ragged pillows.

            Suddenly there was a knock. All four of them froze with their faces turned to the door. Another knock. Paul rolled himself off the couch and crawled over to the door, where he pulled himself up on the door handle. He opened the door carefully.

            Brian took a deep breath as the door slowly opened. They boys were good, he had to admit. Even though it wasn’t the kind of music he would normally listen to, he  could see they had great potential and with a few little adjustments they would soon hit it big. They could change the world if they wanted to and worked hard enough. The adjustments would only be minor. He just hoped he could persuade the boys before they would kick him out. Brian was greeted by a pretty face with wet hair clinging to his face. And he was shirtless. Shit… Brian thought to himself.

            ‘Hello,’ He said, ‘I’m Brian Epstein. I er… I watched you boys play and…’ Before he could even finish his sentence the boy turned around and walked away to the couch. He beckoned Brian with his hand to come in. Brian nodded and stepped inside, closing the door behind him again. God, his hands were shaking… why did these boys have to be good-looking?

‘Who is it?’ Brian heard a young man say, his voice ruff and low, probably from the screaming and singing on the stage.

‘It’s him.’ The boy who had answered the door replied before dropping himself on the leather couch, his pants and the leather squeaking as he moved to get comfortable. Brian fumbled nervously with his notebook as he walked a little closer to the group who, he saw now, were all half naked. The boy, who had asked who he was, didn’t wear anything apart from his boxers. Brian felt his throat get dry as he eyed the man carefully. It was the rhythm guitarist and singer. Brian had immediately noticed the man was handsome and sexy and had a strong appeal to him, but now, seeing him, sweaty and half-naked, it made Brian drool and his cock gave a little twitch at the sight. The man was gorgeous. Brian swallowed thickly as the man approached him and looked him up and down before offering him his hand. Brian shook it with a nervous smile

‘Brian Epstein.’ He spoke, his voice trembling only slightly. The man had noticed, though.

‘John Lennon.’ He replied with a big smile, ‘This is Paul.’ He said as he waved in the direction of the couch. ‘That’s Richard Starkey, but he prefers Ringo, and with him is George Harrison.’ John continued as he pointed at the other two in the corner, both quickly putting on a clean pair of jeans, and the one with the big nose also a shirt.  Brian cursed to himself for there were too many handsome young man in the same small room.

            ‘So, Mr Epstein. What did you think?’ Paul asked after a few seconds of silence. John had sat down next to him and George and Ringo were leaning against the table, standing far too close to be only friends. Or that could only have been Brian’s hope. Brian opened his notebook and began to scan through it.

‘Well, you er… you’ve got the audi-’ Brian started, but was soon interrupted.

‘Put that book away, it’s music not a math test!’ the boy who had introduced himself as John Lennon shot at him with a crooked smile. Paul nudged him in his side and gave him a warning look. John didn’t seem to take any notice of that.

‘Right…’ Brian said as he closed the book.

‘Just say what you like and what you didn’t.’ The youngest of the group added.

‘Okay, well… I believe you guys could make it big.’ All four boys turned to look at each other with happy smiles. They reminded Brian of kids who had just heard they could go to the candy store and choose anything they liked, never mind the price.

‘But,’ Brian quickly added, ‘You need a good manager. Someone who can deal with the business side of it all. The money, the contracts, the copyright, the gigs, the music labels, the  transport, the hotels, the everything that has nothing to do with the making of the music in general.’ He looked around the room. The four seemed to be glued to his lips. He liked that a lot. And who wouldn’t, with such handsome men.

‘Alright,’ Paul, who Brian had decided was the cutest of them all, said, ‘and you think that person might be you?’ Brian nodded.

‘If you would have me.’ He answered. Paul turned to look at John and whispered something in his ear. John listened and shook his head with a grin. Paul giggled and lifted his knees up and hugged them.

‘Anything else?’ John asked, still with that grin on his face. Brian looked from the one to the other and back again at John. He decided to leave it, whatever it was.

‘Well, yes. Now you mention it. There will be some small adjustments.’

‘Adjustments?!’ John asked. Brian took a deep breath and slowly nodded.

‘Not with your music, of course. That’s all good. It’s just… well…’

‘Yes?’ All four of them asked at the exact same time.

‘It’s in the way you present yourself.’ Brian answered quickly, ‘It won’t be anything major. Just… Listen, boys, if you want to make it big, you can’t… eat or drink or smoke on stage. You just can’t. It’s rude and it’s not what the fans asked for. They want the music and you, not the food, the alcohol or the smoking. Understood?’ The boy thought about that for a little while. Then George, Ringo and Paul turned to look at John, while John looked at Paul. John shrugged and Paul nodded in reply. John sighed and turned back to the man.

‘Alright. That’s fine. What else?’ John said. Brian raised an eyebrow at the curious dynamics of the group. George and Ringo seemed to think that John was the leader, while the man sought for obvious approval of the younger, pretty lad.

‘The leather.’ Brian spoke quickly. He had expected the boys to start complaining right away and kicking him out without a second thought. But instead they kept quiet. They didn’t even move. Their eyes grew big at his words, and Brian was certain that he had seen all their eyes move into John’s direction.

‘I understand that this must be a big thing. It’s just… If you want to get a record contract and more gigs at more grander places, you must dress properly and nicer.’ Brian explained. It stayed quiet in the room. John just stared down at the floor and Paul watched him closely and seemed worried about his friend. But, there was something else there. Brian could see it. Paul didn’t just care about John, there was something more. He had his ideas what it was, but he couldn’t be sure. Though the pretty one seemed to be possibly a little queer, even though the girls seemed to appreciate him more than a little and the other way around, John didn’t. Not in any way. Brian pushed the thought away. It wasn’t his business anyway. Not yet, at least. It would be… if they would take him on as their manager.

‘Well, what do you have in mind for us to wear then?’ Paul asked.

‘Suits. Not real suits, of course. There will be some adjustments to fit your erm… style. But suits, yes.’

‘Well, we’ve done it before.’ George spoke softly. Paul nodded.

‘We could… if it would help us. Right? Johnny?’ he asked as he laid a hand on the older man’s shoulder. John took a deep breath and nodded.

‘I guess. As long as it is still a little rebellious.’ Brian heard a sigh of relieve go through the room. Even he himself, felt his nerves fade a little.  

            Paul had let Brian Epstein out again. John was putting on a pair of jeans and a clean white shirt. He threw one to Paul.

‘You seemed rather eager to except that man, Macca.’ John spat at him.

‘Of course I was! John, he might be our only chance!’ Paul shot back just as snappy. He was not up for John’s bitchy comments.

‘Well, I’m not going to wear monkey suits, Paul.’ John replied.

‘We’ll see, alright John. It might actually not even be that bad. I think he does have a point.’ Paul replied, ‘Besides, Elvis wears suits from time to time, doesn’t he?’ John sighed and shrugged. He mumbled something about Paul being a stuck up twat who only saw a chance to suck up to someone again, but Paul ignored it.

‘Just give it a shot. It might not be as bad as you might think. And I’ve always liked the way you look when you’re all dressed up. So maybe all the other people will, too.’ Paul said with a wink before wrapping his arms around John’s chest, pressing his own against John’s back and silencing him with a kiss on his lips.  

‘Alright. I’ll give it a shot. But only for you, Paul.’ He smiled against Paul’s lips and tried to kiss him back as well as could from this awkward angle.

‘Good boy.’ Paul answered, ‘We’ll go shopping with him next Tuesday. Don’t be grumpy and be a doll for once.’

‘Yes, Mimi.’

* * *

 

It was raining. Hard. Paul stared up at the sky as he stood in the doorway of The Cavern, waiting for John to finally come back from the bathroom and having a smoke while doing so. Paul took a deep breath in order to relax. He was so tense! Maybe he shouldn’t just yet and wait for a little while. John’s birthday was next week. That would be a good time as well. Right? Paul sighed. He knew he had to do it now or else he never would. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. He did. Badly so. Especially with John. But… He was just so damn scared.

            ‘Ready, Macca?’ John suddenly asked him from behind. Paul turned his head into his direction. He blew out the smoke he had been holding within his lungs.

 

‘Yeah…’ He answered as a sigh. Never had that question meant so much more than John realised. John gave him a bit of a questionable look, but Paul didn’t give him the chance to ask him what was wrong. Paul pushed himself outside and started walking into the direction of his home quickly. John’s eyes lowered themselves to Paul’s bum and John smirked and quickly followed his boyfriend as he swayed his sexy bum from left to right and back again. John walked a couple of feet behind him for a while, not wanting to look away from that beautiful sight just yet.

            ‘Thanks for letting me stay at your place. Mimi is getting fonder and fonder of you by the second because of it.’ John said as he finally caught up with Paul.

‘I can imagine.’ Paul uttered cheekily before moving to walk closer to his boyfriend, so their arms would brush against each other as they walked.

‘Have you told her yet?’ Paul asked quietly.

‘About us?’

‘Yeah.’

John sighed and shook his head.

‘She’d die if she would ever find out.’

‘She’s still your aunt, John. She really does love you. She would have thrown you out of the house years ago if she hadn’t.’ Paul replied.

‘Not everyone is as understandable as your father, Paul. I’ll probably get a lecture about God and faith and how wrong this is and then she’d send me off to military school.’ Paul laughed silently.

‘Wouldn’t she kill you?’

‘Nah. Would think it was to light. With me being dead I wouldn’t be able to feel sorry.’ John replied with a chuckle himself. Paul sighed and looked up at John.

‘You know she’ll find out one day, right?’ He asked him.

‘I know.’

              ‘You really think that taking on this Epstein guy as our manager is a good idea?’ John asked as they entered Paul’s house. Paul nodded and took off his coat as he walked to the stairs.

‘Yes, I do. I mean, we could at least give him a try, right? See how it goes?’ He asked before yelling up the stairs, ‘Dad! Mike! You in?’ Neither of the boys said something for a while as they listened carefully. After a few seconds Paul shrugged and smiled broadly before turning back around to hang up his coat.

‘What was that for?’ John asked, being rather confused.

‘Nothing.’ Paul said with a cheeky smirk, ‘Just thought we might have some fun before they get home.’ He winked. John smiled and threw his coat aside before pulling Paul into his arms by his waist.

‘I like that sound of that.’ He answered.

              Paul tried to calm himself down as the two of them stumbled awkwardly up the stairs. John refused to let go of him and tried hard to keep their lips locked, which made walking awkward, but Paul didn’t really care. He had enough on his mind. He had to through with it now. Besides, John knew what he was doing. Although, Paul didn’t like to think about it, John had done this before. It would all be fine, he decided as they stepped up the last of the steps and quickly moved to Paul’s little bedroom.

              Paul moaned as he felt his back hit against the door. John let go of his hip to open the door, but had to break the kiss.

‘Shit… Macca…’John moaned as Paul immediately started to suck on John’s neck, just to have something to do and keep himself from over thinking stuff. He couldn’t keep himself from smiling, though.

‘Just… hurry and open… the door.’ He spoke between kisses. John nodded quickly and opened the door, making them both fall onto the floor.

              John started laughing as they hit the floor. He had landed right on top of Paul, who instead of laughing was groaning a bit more, and could feel the younger man’s erection press against his thigh. He turned his face to Paul’s and cupped his cheek before leaning in and pressing a sweet kiss on his lips. Paul smiled into the kiss.

‘John?’ He asked as they broke away again. John nipped at his jawline before moving down and beginning to suck on Paul’s neck, leaving a small mark, right under the man’s jaw, near his ear.

‘Hmm?’ He asked.

‘I… I’m ready.’ Paul stammered, after which he took a deep breath. John stilled his movements and it obviously took a few seconds before he realised what Paul was saying. He looked up at the younger man, who was laying nervously under him. John saw Paul’s lips were trembling.

‘You’re… you’re ehm… ready?’ he asked, not knowing really how else to put it. Paul nodded and licked his lips nervously, unknowingly holding onto John’s shirt a little tighter. John took a deep breath.

‘Alright then.’ He said. Paul cupped John’s cheek in his hand and leaned up to kiss him.

‘Alright then…’ John repeated before leaning in to kiss Paul as well. Softly he locked their lips together.

              ‘So er… how er… do you want to… well.. do this?’ John asked. Paul chuckled.

‘A bed would be nice.’ He answered. John nodded and a slight blush crept onto his face. He quickly sat up.

‘Right,’ He said, ‘Bed.’ Paul nodded and John offered him a helping hand, which Paul took. John pulled them both up onto their feet again. As they stood Paul noticed John had gone a little white.

‘You okay?’ He asked. John chuckled nervously.

‘Shouldn’t I be asking you that?’ He replied. Paul laughed weakly before wrapping his arms around John’s neck. John’s hand immediately grabbed his hips and pulled him against him. Paul didn’t as much as gasp at the sudden movement.

              ‘How can you be this calm?’ John asked after a few seconds of looking into each other’s eyes. Paul’s eyes grew wide at the question.

‘Me? Calm? John, I’m shaking here and it’s not even your fault. I’m scared to death!’ Paul exclaimed.

‘You are?’ John asked, not quite believing it.

‘Of course. I wasn’t just making you wait because I didn’t want to be easy or something. I was fucking terrified of this, John. Still am! But I also know that I really want this. And that you won’t hurt me.’ Paul said, ‘It will be fine, John.’ He gave John a little peck on his cheek, before moving on to his lips. John’s nerves calmed slightly. Paul was just as scared as he was. They were in this together and they would make it work. They would be fine, just like Paul said.

‘Okay… Let’s just… fool around a little then.’ John said. Paul nodded and kissed him, moaning as John started to kiss back and cupped his arse through his jeans.

              John carefully moved them to the bed, making sure Paul didn’t hurt himself as they laid down, John on top of the younger man. Paul played with John’s hair and caressed John’s chest as John let his hands move down Paul’s sides until he could hook his fingers under the hem of Paul’s shirt. His fingers were still trembling. He was just so nervous. He never had been this nervous before when he was about so sleep with someone. Which was strange seeing how he hadn’t felt that nervous when he and Paul first started fooling around. Even that first kiss had been a piece of cake compared to this. It was crazy. John studied Paul’s face closely as he slowly began to drag Paul’s shirt off. He motioned Paul to lift up a little as before he could take it off completely. Immediately he took off his own shirt as well and kissed Paul again. When Paul broke the kiss, John felt his throat get dry, not knowing how to continue.

‘So…’ He asked after an awkward silence, ‘What now?’  Paul laughed sweetly.

‘I don’t know. You’re the expert here. Just do what feel natural. Do what you did with Stuart.’ Paul said the last thing very quietly, now knowing if John would take that comment well. John merely blinked a few times before looking away.

‘What made you think that he…’

‘I just assumed.’ Paul answered quickly, knowing very well what John meant.

              John took a deep breath before he kissed Paul again. Paul was right. He just had to what he had done with Stuart. Sort of. Not exactly the same, but… on the line, sort of. He caressed Paul’s sides and chest with his hands as he slowly and lazily began to roll his hips down and against Paul’s, hoping the friction would make them both more relaxed. Paul groaned at the feeling and he held onto John’s shoulder with one hand and the back of John’s neck with the other. John rolled his hips again, making Paul gasp and rock on the bed slightly. He felt Paul spread his legs a little wider so John could lie between them completely, probably doing what felt natural to him. John had to admit, he was on a good track. He broke the kiss and made his way down to the younger man’s neck, sucking at the red spot he created earlier. Paul gave a small cry at that. John smirked to himself and moved further down, kissing and sucking on Paul’s skin, over the man’s neck, his collarbone, his chest until he reached one of Paul’s nipples. Paul had a soft spot for them, John remembered. He took one into his mouth and began to suck while his other hand tweaked his other nipple. Paul groaned and arched his back, wanting more of that touch. John looked up at him and caught Paul looking at him with big eyes, his pupils dilated, making it appear as if his eyes were black. John felt a rush of arousal run though his veins. He winked at him before moving further down, until he reached Paul’s jeans.

              John was glad Paul wasn’t wearing his leather gear anymore. Though, the man looked extremely good in them, they were terrible to get off again. This was going to be so much easier. He rubbed Paul through his trousers for a few seconds as he looked up at Paul with a mischievous smile on his before he reached for the zipper and pulled it down, making sure Paul hear that wonderful sound. Paul obviously did, for he groaned and propped himself up on his elbows to get a better view of John between his legs. John smiled and began to drag Paul’s trousers down, carefully taking them off. Paul helped him by raising his hips and legs at the right time. It didn’t take John long before he could finally throw Paul’s jeans aside. He was shocked to find Paul wasn’t wearing any underwear. He looked up at his boyfriend with eyes and a dropped jaw. Paul blushed heavily.

‘I err… They were dirty and err… well, we were going to do this anyway, so I thought I’d… you know…’ Paul explained. John’s mouth corners curled up and he reached over to kiss Paul on the lips. Paul moaned at the contact.

‘I fucking adore you, Macca.’ He spoke, his voice already thick with arousal as he pulled away again and moved back down. He took Paul’s erection in his hand and slowly began to wank him, moving his hand up and down in a slow and steady rhythm, making Paul groan every time he let his fingers run across the tip or when he tightened his grip on him. Paul’s head tipped back as he felt John’s wet, rubbery tongue sweet across the tip as well, scooping up the pre-cum he had been leaking.

‘Shit…’ Paul cursed before looking back down, not wanting to miss the beautiful slight of John taking his erection in his mouth and hollowing out his cheeks before bobbing up and down as he sucked him further and further down his throat. Paul’s cheeks grew hot as he watched John suck him off and he moved one hand down to let his fingers run through John’s auburn hair and pulling lightly as an encouragement. John groaned around Paul’s cock at the feeling, making Paul cry out at the vibrations and he grabbed John’s hair a little tighter. John was nearly afraid Paul would pull a few out. Paul quickly muttered something that must have been an apology. John hummed in response and smirked, cock still in his throat, as Paul pulled again and called him a cheeky bastard.

              John sucked Paul nice and slowly for a couple of more minutes before he felt Paul’s balls tighten in his hand. He quickly pulled away, not wanting Paul to cum. Paul groaned at the loss off contact and sat up. He took John’s face in his hands and pulled him in for a kiss, which John excepted gladly. John was the one to pull away. He looked deeply into Paul’s eyes and took a deep breath.

‘Have you err… Lube and stuff?’ John asked him, mentally kicking himself for acting like a shy schoolboy, who didn’t dare to say any naughty things. God, the things Paul could do to him. Paul licked his lips and nodded before reaching into his nightstand. He pulled out an already used bottle of lube and a condom. John smirked as he looked from Paul to the bottle of lube and back again. Paul flushed crimson again.

‘You used it already?’ John asked him, curiously. Paul bit his lip and nodded slowly, before looking down like a little boy who had been caught down something bad.

‘I err… I like… I like how it feels.’ Paul said softly. John frowned at that.

‘Like how what feels?’ He asked. Paul shrugged and let himself head down on the pillow. John smiled at how adorable Paul was being and moved to lie down on top of him, his covered erection pressing against Paul’s naked bum. Paul rubbed himself against it, probably unintentionally.

‘Just… it.’ He said into his pillow. John laughed and kissed his reddened cheek.

‘Have you been fingering yourself?’ John asked him with a giggle. Paul stayed extremely quiet before his head slowly began to move.

‘Maybe…’ He said. He rolled back onto his back and looked up at John with a stern look. He pointed up at John, who was smirking as he pictured it in his mind.

‘You can’t tell, anyone! And it’s not funny.’ Paul said with a pout. John chuckled and kissed his boyfriend sweetly. Paul moaned into the kiss and held his shoulders.

‘Why would I tell anyone?!’ John asked as he pulled away, ‘You silly boy. And besides. I think it’s kind of hot.’ Paul’s eyes grew big and gave John a playful push.

‘But let me watch next time you’re going to do it, alright?’ Paul thought about that for a little while before cocking his head to its side.

‘We’ll see.’ He said vaguely before leaning up and kissing John again. John smiled into the kiss and let Paul roll them over so Paul was on top.

              ‘Turn around.’ John said as they broke away again. Paul stared down at him, not understanding. John sighed and pointed at his feet.

‘Your head in that direction.’ He spoke with a grin on his face. Paul raised an eyebrow at that but did as he was asked. John grinned and positioned Paul legs on either side of his chest.

‘You sure about this?’ Paul asked, not quiet getting what the point was and feeling rather embarrassed with the position he found himself in. John caressed his thighs.

‘Yeah. Now, you’ll suck me and I’ll suck you, get it?’ John asked him sweetly. Paul gave him a questionable look but started to undo John’s jeans and pulled out his cock. John gasped as Paul let it slide into his mouth, over his tongue and as far into his throat as he could manage. Which was quite far, actually. Just another inch and Paul would have it all down his throat. John enjoyed the feeling of Paul’s warm mouth and tongue sliding over his cock before he also took Paul’s into his mouth and began to suck as well. Paul stilled his actions for a while before continuing, probably surprised. John grinned around Paul’s dick and swirled his tongue around the head before trying to take him in completely. He gagged. Paul stopped and asked if he was okay. John nodded and coughed before answered.

‘Fine. Just continue. You’re doing great.’ He said. Paul blushed at the compliment but continued to work on John’s dick as John started to blow him again.

              John tried to focus on what he was doing as he reached with his hand for the bottle of lube. It wasn’t hard to find. Right next to his pillow. He opened it and looked at Paul to be sure he hadn’t heard him. Paul just gave a hard suck, making John moan around his cock. He could feel Paul smile around him. John squirted some on his fingers and coated them carefully before caressing Paul’s bum and parting the cheeks. Paul tensed slightly under the feeling, but continued to work without a word. John smirked to himself as he let one of his coated fingers run across Paul’s arse crack and circled his hole. Paul let him slip out of his mouth and gasped at the feeling and the coldness.

‘Fuck… John…’ He muttered as John slowly started to add a little pressure, not yet sliding in.  John grinned and started to circle again as he continued to suck Paul’s dick. Paul moaned once before he started to bob up and down John’s cock again, pushing his bum up a little more so John had better excess. John felt his mouth water at the sight. Paul was so beautiful, like a sexy, wanton little slut. But in a good way. John decided it was better not to think and pressed his fingers gently inside of Paul. It slipped in far more easy then he had expected. Paul certainly hadn’t been lying when he had told him about the fingering. Dirty boy. John let Paul’s dick slide out and giggled at the thought. Paul didn’t object and just pushed back against John’s finger.

‘How many?’ John asked, being nearly out of breath due to the erotic sight before him.

‘Two.’ Paul answered, his voice rough due to the sucking. He caught his breath. John nodded and began to move his fingers a little more freely. Three should do it, John thought to himself. Paul groaned as John saw his cock twitch. He chuckled and added another. This one went in with a little more difficult, but John saw Paul had learned to relax, which was good. Stuart hadn’t had a clue when they had first done this.

‘Hold… ugh… hold still for a while.’ Paul asked him and John nodded as he stilled his fingers. Paul took a few deep breaths before pushing back again.

‘Okay… I’m fine.’ He told him. John nodded and slowly began to move again, taking his time and scissoring in order to stretch Paul wider. Paul groaned and let his head hand sluggish between his shoulders. John noticed Paul was going a little limp again and he quickly gave him a few quick pulls, wanting Paul to stay hard all the way through.

              ‘Can you take another?’ John asked after a minute or so. Paul took a deep breath before nodding yes.

‘Yeah… I’ll… I’ll be fine.’ He said. John nodded and pulled his fingers nearly all the way out before adding another. Paul groaned and threw his head back as John slowly began to push again. John wanked Paul a couple of more times as he started to slowly fuck Paul with his fingers, pushing deeper and deeper, bit by bit. Paul groaned and moaned and then suddenly he gave a loud cry. John’s fingers stilled a second in shock before he realised he must have found Paul’s prostate. He pressed down again. Paul moaned loudly again and pushed back on his fingers.

‘Good?’ John asked with a knowing grin. Paul chuckled and nodded.

‘So good.’ He said. John pulled his fingers out again. Paul turned his head angrily at him and John beckoned him to turn back again.

‘I think you’re ready.’ He said. Paul took a deep breath and nodded.

              ‘It’s best if you ride me. You’ll have all the control. Let gravity do the work.’ John said with a smile as he propped himself up and leaned with his back against the wall. He unwrapped the condom and put it on himself before applying more lube. Paul swallowed deeply and nodded before he straddled John’s lap and sat down on John’s thighs. He took John’s cock in his hand and wanked him a few times as he stared at it. He jumped a little as he suddenly felt the back of John’s hand on his cheek, stroking it reassuringly.

‘We can wait, you know. If you’re not ready.’ He said, suddenly feeling nervous again himself. Paul quickly shook his head and leaned in to kiss him.

‘I’m fine,’ he said, ‘Just nervous.’ John nodded and placed his hands on Paul’s thighs.

‘Yeah. Me too.’ He said. Paul kissed him again before pulling back and raising up a little and moving forward slightly so he was hovering over John’s cock, which he held up right in his hand. John watched with open mouth and obvious arousal as Paul slowly lowered himself. He closed his eyes as he felt the tip of John’s cock against his hole and let himself move down, slowly letting John penetrate him.

‘Shit… Macca…’ John breathed heavily as he felt Paul’s tightness starting to surround his cock. Paul smiled at that and let the air he had been holding in his lungs escape as he let himself down a little deeper. It burned, the stretch. John was far bigger than the three fingers he had within him merely a minute ago, let one his regular two. He felt more than a little uncomfortable but it didn’t yet hurt too bad so he continued, slowly letting himself surround John’s cock. A little pop told him the head popped in. He groaned with uneasiness and relaxed as he felt John’s fingers caress his thighs and chest.

‘That’s it, Paul. That’s it. You’re doing great. Slowly now.’ John encouraged him. Paul knew that if he opened his eyes he’d see John staring at his cock entering him with open mouth, most likely drooling at the sight. The imagine made Paul feel fuzzy inside. He let himself down a little more and suddenly he felt John’s balls slap against his arse cheeks. It was in!

‘Fucking hell… Macca… Oh god, you’re so fucking tight, you know that? Shit…’ John moaned as he grabbed Paul’s hips and held him in place. Paul slowly opened his eyes and looked down at John. He wiped a tear out of his eyes and some sweat from his forehead before leaning down and kissing John deeply, moaning into his mouth as John started to nibble his lower lip and suck at it.

              Paul placed his hands on John’s chest and shoulders for balance as he slowly began to move. John groaned at the feeling and helped Paul move with his hands. Paul moaned weakly as he felt John slide nearly all the way out before he let himself sit down again and letting him slide back inside. It was strangely amazing as the burn slowly began to fade and a strange kind of pleasure grew inside of him.

‘Find that spot, Paul. It will be better.’ John told him as he looked up at him, watching him with big, lustful eyes. Paul nodded and started to find the right angle. He leaned forward a bit, letting his arms wrap themselves around John’s neck as he pressed his face in John’s neck, kissing him there and whispering him a thank you. He moved a little more to the right with his hips and then he had it. A strange sensation took over. It felt different from when his fingers had been pushing down on it, but it was still so fucking good.

              Paul breathed heavily into John’s ear as he began to move more freely, raising his hips and rotating him in a heavenly good way. John had to admit, Paul was amazing. The way he moved was mesmerizing, the way he looked breath-taking and those little moans and groans sounded like music in his ear. John let himself be ridden and let pleasure take over as Paul used him for his own pleasure.

              After a few minutes John began to meet Paul’s movements with his own and thrusted his hips up. Paul gasped at the feeling and covered John’s mouth with own to muffle his cries of pleasure. John saw tears form in Paul’s eyes, and for a brief moment he thought he was hurting Paul until Paul pulled away and rested his forehead against his.

‘Fuck… John… so good…’ He moaned before kissing him again. John moaned and sped up his thrusting, making Paul bounce up and down quicker and quicker.

‘You feel so good, Macca. Oh god…’ John moaned as Paul pulled away again.

‘Harder, John… oh fuck… please… harder.’ Paul asked him quietly, breathlessly and helplessly. John held onto Paul’s hips a little stronger and kept him in the air as he let himself thrust up into him with a rapid speed, making Paul whine and cry out with pleasure as he tipped his head back. John quickly leaned forward and took one of Paul’s nipples in his mouth and started to nipple the best he could with his own thrusting and Paul moving rapidly. One of Paul’s hands feel down John’s naked chest and he took a hold of himself. He gasped and began to stroke quickly in the same rhythm as John’s thrusts.

‘Oh god… I’m close, John… oh my so close… please…’ Paul moaned. John nodded and wrapped his arms tightly around Paul before moving them so Paul was on his back, stroking his cock as if it was the only thing he could do at the moment and crying out for him to do something that John couldn’t even understand anymore, and he was on top of him, Paul’s legs wrapped tightly around him as he held onto Paul’s wide spread knees as he pounded into him in a rapid speed.

‘Come for me, Macca… Please… oh shit… Come for me… let it go.’ John cooed as his thrust began irregular and violent. He was so close himself as well. Paul grabbed the sheets tightly and twisted them in his free hand as he came with a sob, spurting all over his belly and chest. The sight alone and the fact that Paul’s arse muscles were spasming around him, made John lose control and he came, buried deep inside of Paul. He collapsed on top of Paul and he relaxed as he felt Paul wrap his arms around him possessively.

‘Shit…’ John breathed. Paul nodded with a tired giggle.

              The boys laid there together for a while before John rolled off Paul and stood up. Paul turned his head to him and sat up.

‘Where are you going?’ He asked. His voice sounded unsure.

‘Nowhere. Just getting some towels to clean us up and dispose of this nasty thing.’ John said as he rolled the condom off them and made a knot in it.

‘Okay, then.’ Paul said softly as he let himself fall back onto the bed again.

‘Won’t be long.’ John said with a smile.

              When John returned however, with two wet towels, Paul was lying curled up under the blanket on his side, his shoulders shaking and obviously crying. John froze in the doorway.

‘Paul?’ He asked carefully. Paul didn’t answer him.

‘Paul? Are you okay?’ John asked again as he slowly walked over to Paul and sat down on the edge of the bed next to Paul, not caring that he was still naked.

‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ he asked softly. Paul turned to face him. His face was wet with tears and his eyes red from the crying. John gently caressed his cheek.

‘I didn’t hurt you, did I?’ John asked as he suddenly recalled seeing Paul cry when he had been sitting on his lap. Paul sniffed and shook his head “no”. John sighed in relieve.

‘Do you want me to lie down next to you?’ John asked. Paul nodded and moved a little to make room for John. John laid the towels down on the floor and crawled into the bed next to Paul. Paul immediately wrapped his arms tightly around him and buried his face in his chest and he started crying again. It took John a few minutes before he hugged Paul back and started to draw circles on his naked back, mostly because he hadn’t had a clue what to do. He wasn’t used to situations like this. Stuart certainly hadn’t cried after his first time. John sighed and kissed Paul’s temple.

‘Can you tell me?’ He asked as a whisper. Paul nodded and looked up at him. John smiled and brushed a few hairs out of his face.

‘I- I… I just…’ Paul started croaking out, his voice shaky and throaty, ‘I’m… I’m just really… really happy.’ Paul finished with another sob and John had to blink a few times before it finally got through to him what Paul had said.

‘Happy?’ he asked. Paul nodded and blushed again, burying his face in the crook of John’s neck and kissing him there once.

‘You must think I’m a wimp, crying because of this.’ Paul said. He sounded absolutely awful.  John held onto his boyfriend a little tighter and shook his head no.

‘Of course not. What makes you think that?’ John said soothingly.

‘Really?’ Paul asked hopefully. John smiled and kissed the top of his head.

‘Really.’ He agreed. Paul sighed in relieve.

‘I just… I never thought this would happen, you know. Us. This. I’m so glad that it did.’

‘I know, Paul. I am, too.’ John answered. He lifted up Paul chin and kissed him lovingly. No tongue, no need. Just pure love. It nearly made Paul cry again, but he held himself together. So instead he moaned.

‘Thank you.’ He whispered. John smiled and caressed his cheek and wiped a few more tears away before sitting up.

‘Now, let’s get you cleaned up.’ He said as he reached down and grabbed the two towels. Paul laid back on the bed with his hand behind his head and looked up at John with a grin. John snickered and shook his head as he realised what Paul wanted him to do. He did it anyway. 

* * *

 

The sun shined as Paul slowly opened his eyes. He smiled to himself as he felt an arm wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him against a warm body lying next to him. He closed his eyes and sighted contentedly as he felt John’s breath against the back of his neck. Paul could get used to this, waking up like this, John holding him so tightly and possessively. He had absolutely no problem with it whatsoever.

            Paul didn’t fall asleep again. He just thought about what just had happened the evening before. A manager! A real one! Not a friend of John’s who sort of pretended to be one, but a real one. Someone who could get them somewhere. Paul replayed the gig in his head as he enjoyed the soothing sounds of John’s slow and heavy breathing. It really had been one of their best gigs. And if they would continue like this, who knows where they would end up. Hopefully as big as Elvis. Or even bigger. Paul sighed happily and the thought. Now, the only thing that might still get in their way was John self. Paul hoped he wouldn’t get too upset about their new look and hopefully he liked it himself as well.

 

              John stirred  behind him. His leg twitched and his breathing grew irregular. Paul rolled over so he was facing John and watched quietly as John slowly began to open his eyes. A smile appeared on John’s face when he noticed him and the grip he still had on Paul grew a little tighter. Paul smiled back at him and leaned in to kiss him without saying a word. John closed his eyes and let him with a soft moan.

‘Morning, luv.’ Paul muttered softly, his voice still thick with sleep. John just groaned with disapproval and pulled Paul against his lips again. Paul giggled at that and let John kiss him a bit more before he completely pulled away. John whined and tried to pull his boyfriend back again, but Paul just sat up and stroked John’s hair. John grabbed his hand and tried to pull him down again. Paul just laughed.

‘Don’t want me to go, then?’ He asked while John wrapped his arms around him again and rubbed his face against Paul’s tummy. John just hummed and nodded.

‘Well,’ Paul said as he unwrapped himself from John’s arms, ‘I’m gonna go and get meself some nice breakfast. You can come if you want to, but please don’t grab me like that in front of me dad.’ Paul chuckled and quickly got off the bed as he freed himself. John tried to grab him again, but Paul was too quick, so instead John just let himself fall off the bed.

‘I know you would secretly love it if I would do that, Macca.’ He said with a groan. Paul laughed and offered him a hand and raised John too his feet. John let himself fall forward into Paul’s arms and clutched himself at him. Paul nearly fell and had to take a step back to stay standing. He heard John snicker against his shoulder.

‘Legs are too wobbly, luv.’ He muttered. Paul rolled his eyes and sat John back down before moving about his room to find them some clothing.

‘Well, fine by me if you’re coming along, but please put something on. I don’t think either my dad or brother would appreciate you being naked while having breakfast.’ He said as he threw John a shirt and a pair of pyjama bottoms. John slid into them without a single moan.

              ‘Morning, dad!’ Paul greeted cheerily as he and John walked into the kitchen and sat down at the breakfast table. Jim McCartney looked up from his paper and smiled uncomfortably at the two boys who were now sitting opposite of him.  

‘Morning, son. John.’ He said dryly. John smiled at Paul’s father and managed a weak smile. Underneath the table he held on tightly to Paul’s hand.

‘Good morning, Mr McCartney.’ He said politely. Jim smiled at that. Paul squeezed his hand reassuringly and got them both some toast that lay ready on the table. His father always made them breakfast on Sundays.

              ‘Where’s Mike?’ Paul asked after a moment of awkward silence. He wondered if his dad had heard them. His father answered without looking up.

‘Upstairs, I think. He always sleeps in on Sundays.’  He said. Paul nodded at that.

‘That’s true,’ he replied, ‘What did you think about last night?’ Paul saw both his father’s as John’s eyes grew big and it took them both a moment before they understood what Paul was and wasn’t asking exactly. Paul nudged John’s side as a warning. John groaned and got a sharp look from Paul’s dad.

‘Oh err… The gig… It was good, I suppose. Better than usual.’ Jim commented.

‘We got a manager.’ Paul said with a happy, goofy smile. Jim looked up with big eyes from his newspaper and stared at his son for a while.

‘You… You got a manager? As in, a real one?’ He asked, not quiet believing it.

‘Hmm. Yes… His name is Brian Epstein and he’s taking us shopping for clothing coming Tuesday. Get a new, better and cleaner image, you know.’ Paul said as he put some butter on his toast and stuffed in his mouth.

‘Epstein… Epstein… Yes, I  bought a piano of him once. Well, he seems like a sensible man. He’ll do you boys good, I think. I never really got that leather gear, anyways. You boys don’t need it.’ Jim said enthusiastically. He almost seemed to have forgotten about that fact that his son had sex, illegal sex even, under his roof with his permission with the boys next to him, who was obviously holding his hand, though they did try to hide it. Paul gave John’s hand a quick squeeze again, reminding him not to start about the comment on their leather gear, knowing John loved their leather pants and teddy boy haircut. John luckily remained silent.

‘Thanks dad. I think he’ll get us far.’ Paul said with a smile. Then he turned to John.

‘Want a cuppa?’ He asked. John nodded and let go of his hand so Paul could stand up and make them both some. John followed Paul with his eyes as Paul moved about the kitchen, fetching everything he needed and finally waiting for the water to boil. He could feel Jim’s eyes on him and so he tried not to look at Paul’s bum as it swayed so deliciously in front of his eyes. John was almost certain Paul did it on purpose.

‘If you ever hurt him, or get him into any kind of trouble, you’re dead.’ John heard Jim McCartney suddenly coldly whisper at him. A chill ran down his spine. He quickly nodded without blinking and kept his eyes straight at Paul.

              ‘I swear your dad is going to kill me one day.’ John said as he fall back on Paul’s bed. Paul snickered and got himself some clothing out of his closet.

‘You’re exaggerating!’ he said. John shook his head.

‘No, really. He kept staring at me through the hole breakfast! Even when Mike came down and nearly burned the place down! It’s dead scary.’ John continued.

‘Oh, come on. He didn’t burn the place down. He merely burned his toast. And besides. Since when do you care about what adults thinks, eh? Especially my father. You never bothered to act this nice and polite before all this.’ Paul replied as he took off his shirt and threw it across the room into a corner. John let his eyes run up and down the boy’s torso, taking in every little detail until we was nearly drooling.

‘Well, because I wasn’t your boyfriend before. And I just took his oldest son’s innocence. Fathers are never in to that. And because he’s your father. And you matter to me and therefor so does your father.’ John explained as he slowly stood back up. Paul had turned his back to him and John silently crept over to him before sliding his hands up Paul’s back, over his shoulders and down his chest, gently pulling him back against him. Paul hummed at the feeling, making John smile.

‘That’s actually really nice. What you said I mean. Though, I can’t complain about this.’ Paul said as he turned back around and wrapped his arms around John’s neck.

‘You can tell him that after he killed me.’ John answered, making Paul laugh and lean in to kiss him.

‘I’m going to take a shower.’ He mumbled as John pulled away again.

‘Oh…’ John spoke back as he lowered his hands until they rested on Paul’s hips.

‘Wanna join me?’ Paul asked with a suggestive wink. John grinned and pressed his lips back against Paul’s.

‘You bet ya, I do.’ He spoke softly. Paul moaned at that and pressed his body against him.

              John watched Paul with great care and let himself take in every little detail of Paul’s body. Every little hair, every birthmark, every freckle, every scar and bruise, however little, and every curve. He printed it all his mind like map. He felt his cock twitch at the sight before his eyes. Paul was completely naked, water running down his fair skin, over his beautiful face, down his neck, his shoulders, his chest, his arms, his belly, his hips, his bum, his thighs and legs until it reached the tiles on the floor. John couldn’t look away. His breath stocked as Paul turned his head to him and smiled sweetly before beckoning him to step under the warm stream of water as well. John quickly stepped under it and immediately he was pulled into a sweet and tender kiss. He gave a surprised moan, causing Paul to giggle with amusement.

              ‘Are you okay?’ John asked as their kiss broke. Paul looked up at him with a somewhat adorable confused look on his face. His eyes were almost green in the dimmed light and John thought it made him even more handsome. John wiggled awkwardly for a bit as Paul just continued to stare at him, obviously not quite understanding why he was asking. He looked down a little shyly. Which surprised him. He had never felt shy before. He quickly looked back up as he realised this, straight into Paul’s eyes. No matter how much he cared for Paul, he was not going to make him feel shy about anything. John Lennon wasn’t shy. But yet, he couldn’t help it. He felt his cheeks heathen and he noticed his hand was trembling slightly as he moved it down Paul’s chest to the man’s naked hip where it rested.

‘With yesterday, you know. With all that happened. Between us.’ John added, his voice soft en gentle. Paul smiled at that.

‘Of course. What made you think I wasn’t?’ he asked as he stepped a little closer, bringing his hand up to the back of John’s neck, where he started playing with John’s damp hair.

‘I- you… you were crying last night. I… I just wanted to be sure. That… that you didn’t regret it.’ John answered, his fingers tightened their grip on Paul’s hip. Paul’s smile faded, but his eyes softened. John’s heart sped up quickly and he took a deep breath, fearing Paul was regretting it, if only slightly.

‘John…’ Paul said in all seriousness, ‘I don’t regret it. Like I said, I was just really really happy. Still am,’ Paul smiled briefly, almost reassuringly, ‘in fact… I don’t think I ever could regret it.’ John blinked a few times at that before a smile slowly crept back onto his face. He sighed with relieve and pulled Paul closely against him, wrapping both his arms around him. Paul smiled broadly, leaned upwards and kissed John’s forehead sweetly before looking back into John’s eyes.

‘Now, stop being a sappy git and kiss me. Properly.’ Paul practically ordered, making John laugh before taking the boy’s chin and parting the boy’s lips before kissing him passionately, making them both groan into each other’s mouth by the pure dominance that laid in that kiss as well as the tenderness. John thought it was perfect.

              The boys didn’t see each other again after that until Tuesday. They had decided that Paul would pick John up and take the bus together. They’d meet up with Richie and George over at the shop. And John was actually excited. He didn’t know really what it was, but there was something about this that made his fingertips tinkle at the thought of going through all those clothing and picking something out and making Paul put on the most ridiculous pieces of clothing. He guessed it was mostly the last.

              John was already ready to go when Paul came in through the back door. John smiled broadly at him and quickly put on his coat as he walked over to him.

‘Ready to go, then?’ Paul asked teasingly. John grinned at him.

‘Watch it, Macca. Or else I might get pretty frustrating this afternoon.’ He warned him as he stole a quick kiss, which Paul gave him gladly.

‘Come on, John. You promised me to behave.’ Paul said as John pulled away again.

‘Or else?’ John dared him as he reopened the back door and stepped outside.

‘Like I’d tell you. You’ll see, but I promise you it won’t be pretty.’ Paul replied as he followed John out again.

‘Looking forward to it.’ John simply stated, making Paul chuckle.

              The other’s including Brian Epstein were already at the shop when John and Paul arrived. They were waiting outside. George and Ringo were both having a smoke as they talked silently with each other. Brian was looking at a notebook again. But it wasn’t the same one as he had had with him last Saturday. This one was smaller. Paul gave John one more warning look before walking over to them with a big smile.

              John watched as Paul said hello to everyone and managed to get a smoke off of George. George didn’t seem too pleased about it, but Paul obviously didn’t care. John quickly walked over again.

‘Come on, eh. Clothes are in there and I’m not spending my afternoon looking at them through the window in this freezing weather.’  He said with a laugh.

‘Good point, John.’ Ringo replied with a laugh and walked over to John, who was standing at the door now.

‘Right. Come on then. Let’s get you boys something to wear.’ Brian said with a smile as he put his little notebook and pencil in his pocket and opened the door for the boys. John and Ringo immediately went inside, already having enough with the cold.

              The store wasn’t either big or small, but it was obviously sort of posh. As far as you could get posh in Liverpool. John thought Mimi would have been very happy to know he was going to get clothing from this place instead of anywhere where he’d normally go. John was glad to know he could at least make someone happy by buying these kinds of clothing. The whole store was mainly suits. John didn’t want a suit. He didn’t want to be like everyone else. He didn’t want to be neat and well-mannered or acceptable or something like that. He wanted to be a rocker. And a rocker in his mind wore leather, or tight jeans, or t-shirts, or whatever. Not suits, and blazers and fancy-dress shoes or ties. John felt his throat tighten. He took a deep breath and told himself to at least be open to the idea and behave. He had promised Paul that. He could at least give it a try, right?

‘You okay, Johnny?’ John suddenly heard next to him. He jumped a little in shock. He hadn’t even noticed Paul had been standing there.

‘Fine…’ John answered, ‘Don’t scare me like that.’ Paul gave him a reassuring and understanding smile. He let his fingers brush against John’s hand.

‘Let’s have a look around first, yeah?’ He proposed. John took a deep breath and nodded. It was good to know Paul understood. Maybe this was still going to be fun.

              ‘How about this, eh?’ Paul said as he held up a pink blazer with a pair of black slacks, ‘Suits with that ugly floral blue tie. Rebellious enough for ya?’ He teased with a playful wink. John laughed at that and shook his head.

‘No, not shocking enough, Paulie.’ He answered. Paul shrugged.

‘Well, I think you just ruined our chance to become famous.’ He said.

‘Famous, sure. For managing to wear the most ugly combination of the most ugly clothing in the whole fucking world. Not really my dream, Paul. Sorry.’ John shot back at him, making Paul burst out in laughter. John himself quickly followed.

              Brian watched the boys carefully as they browsed the store. He knew he had to find out the group’s dynamics if he wanted to make them a success. He knew they were good and had more than just talent and charisma, and that if he could play it well they’d change the world. But the whole dynamics, he didn’t have a clue. He could see that George and… what was his name? The one with the big nose? Oh, Richard. Yes, they didn’t have much say in everything, but he could also see that the other two did care about what they thought and wanted and what they did not want. He had seen the pretty one, Paul, walk over to them from time to time, joke with them and asking about what they thought and if they had found something, as the other handsome one, John Lennon, kept an eye on them as he looked through the many suits. John and Paul. Brian just couldn’t figure them out. One time it was obviously John who was the leader, and another time it was definitely Paul. But they weren’t at the same time. Never at the same time. Sometimes it seemed as if Paul wanted John to believe he was the leader while he manipulated him into saying and doing what he wanted and other times it was as if John saw Paul as the leader and again another John was the obvious king of the other boys’ their little world and Paul then didn’t have any kind of say in anything. It was strange, and Brian thought of it a strange, but fascinating. But what he did figure out, was that Paul, though he looked pretty and sweet and gentle, was a manipulative, strict, bossy, and someone who you didn’t want to have against you. He had to watch out for him, because he could see Paul was a tough one. He wouldn’t think twice about breaking you, if he had too. But also, only when he had too. It all lay kind of hidden within him. He knew Paul would always try to keep everything quiet and peaceful, but he could do it, if he wanted to. And he would leave little of you untouched.

              John however, was tough at that surface. Brian could see he was cruel, mean, easily hurt and somewhat aggressive. You didn’t want John Lennon to have any reason to hate you or punch you. Because he would do it. Without a second thought. But when John was with Paul, there was something else. He was relaxer, gentler, softer, but not weak. It was like they kind of blended into each other, by being each other’s opposites on the surface, while they were much more alike from deep inside.

              Brian wasn’t sure what it was between those two lads, but… Brian could see they were more than just good friends. He had seen that look in John’s eyes when he looked at Paul far too often to  not see it. If he only knew what _it_ was exactly.

              Brian sighed and put his notebook away again. He took a quick look at his watch. They had been in here long enough, he thought. Time to get to business. He walked over to the cashier and asked him after the suits he had seen before. He had already picked a few, he thought the boys would like. Mostly to speed things up. And because he loved dressing people up. And the fact that the people were not four handsome young lads made that he just hadn’t been able to wait. The cashier got a pile of suits from behind the register and laid them on top of a large table. Brian smiled proudly to himself. Surely they’d like one of these.

              ‘Alright, lads!’ he called to the boys, who looked up at him with big, innocent looking eyes, ‘How about these. I managed to get a few before you got here. These are probably the best.’ The four lads all nodded and quickly moved over to him. Even John seemed somewhat curious. He smiled and picked up a grey one with black stiches. The slacks where quite a tight fit, he knew and they would look great with a green shirt instead of grey, so picked a green shirt up as well.

‘How about this?’ he asked. Neither of them said something. Brian looked at Paul for support, knowing the boys was sort of into this whole suit idea, but he was mostly looking worriedly at John, who on his part had a larger growing doubtful look on his face. Brian swallowed thickly.

‘The pants are rather tight, so it’s not neat and most people will still think it’s too much, but it’s a little neater and it will attract to some important people.’ He said quickly, hoping to convince John it wasn’t that bad.

              John stared at the suit in Brian’s hand. It… it wasn’t bad, he guessed. But… But… It… it wasn’t… it wasn’t what he wanted. It was too neat. It would ruin it. Everything would be ruined. It was too normal. They were rockers, not accountants. He shook his head and bit his tongue before turning to look at Paul.

‘I don’t like it. We keep the leather.’ He said before turning around and starting to walk away. He could feel Paul’s warning eyes digging into his back, but he didn’t care. No. Just no. They were rockers and that was it. No bloody suits. Never.

‘John..’ John heard Paul try behind him.

‘I SAID NO!’ John shouted at him, a little more forceful and louder than he had wanted. He quickened his pace and moved around a corner to the changing rooms, so no one could see him. Not even Paul.

              Brian watched with open fallen mouth as John shouted at Paul. He looked from the one to the other. He didn’t see John’s face, but he knew he was pissed and Paul’s face didn’t look very happy either. Brian laid the suit back down again.

‘John! Come back here!’ Paul called after him a little angrily, but John didn’t answer and just ignored him. Paul sighed, took off his jacket and turned to Brian with apologizing eyes before running after John. Brian looked at the other two, who stood a little awkwardly, playing with fabric.

              Paul could hardly believe it. John had said he’d give it a chance. He didn’t even try it out. And he certainly didn’t have to shout. If this was John’s idea of behaving well, than he was wrong. Paul quickly moved to the changing rooms and saw there John leaning against the wall, smoking. Paul walked over to him and took the cigarette from his boyfriend and put it out.

‘I tried, Paul. But it’s just not going to happen, alright. It’s not. I’m not doing it. I’m not wearing a stupid monkey suit and dance and play whenever I’m told to.’ John told him before Paul could even open his mouth. Paul sighed and rubbed his temples.

‘John. You fucking arsehole. You don’t…’

‘Don’t you call me an arsehole. You’re not any better. You actually do dance when people tell you too.’ John interrupted him. Paul took a deep breath to calm himself down. He felt like shouting at John, but he knew that wasn’t going to help him in any way. It would only make it worse.

‘John. Just do it, please. It might not be as bad as you think. It was only the first one. You can’t do this, John. Just give the man a chance.’ Paul asked him nicely.

‘The man’s a fucking poof. That’s what he is. A nasty cock-loving queer. With the way he looks at you. I bet he can’t wait to bury his dick down that throat of yours.’ John shot at him. Paul gave him a look.

‘Says you.’ He said, ‘And he doesn’t look at _me_ like that.’ John squinted his eyes and gave Paul a nasty look.

‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ He asked.

‘You know what. But that doesn’t matter. You’re going to go back there  and try that damn suit on, or you know what will happen. And I will keep my promise.’ Paul warned. John sighed and rolled his eyes.

‘Fine.’ He said as he pushed himself off the wall and  pushed passed Paul back to the others. Paul watched as John took the suit from Brian and walked back. Paul smiled at him as he walked passed and pulled him close to him to give him a quick peck before letting John into the little changing room.

‘Thanks, babe.’ He said.

‘Yeah, well. Don’t get used to it,’ John answered. Paul knew he meant to sound angry, but he spotted a small grin on John’s face, making him feel proud.

‘And don’t call me babe.’ John added before shutting the wooden door behind him.

              Brian followed John as he stormed off again to the dressing rooms, afraid of what he was going to do with the suit. But what he saw was not what he was expecting. Well, not at that time. Paul smile smiling and leaning smugly against the door to one of the changing room and pulled John close to him the man walked passed. Brian almost gasped as he saw Paul press his lips against the older man’s. He was even more shocked when John, instead of moving away and hitting Paul straight in the face, let himself be kissed and got into a dressing room afterwards, as if it was nothing. Brian quickly ducked away again as Paul looked into his direction. 


	11. Chapter 11

Paul waited outside the changing room for either John to finish or the others to come over. He was chewing his bottom lip. He was nearly completely sure Brian had seen them. Him and John. Kissing. He sure didn’t hope so, but he knew he had to check and see how bad things were. Maybe he could talk himself out of it. But, if Brian had seen them, really seen them, he knew that wasn’t an option. But he did need to find out what Brian had seen exactly and what he thought went on between the two of them.

 

              But before Paul could come up with a way to figure that out, George and Ringo came around the corner and walked over to him. Brian soon followed with the other suits. George came to stand next to Paul, and Paul turned to focus on him. Anything was better than looking at Brian right now.

‘So, what took it? Records? Guitar stuff? Elvis poster? Elvis anything?’ George asked with a grin on his face. Paul shook his head.

‘No. Simple and easy. Persuasion.’ Paul replied proudly. George grinned wider.

‘Ah,’ he said, ‘Sex. I see.’ Paul elbowed him hardly in his side and gasped at that.

‘What? No! That you would, doesn’t mean I do.’ Paul said with a naughty grin. George just shrugged and rubbed his painful side.

‘Didn’t have to stab me.’ He said. Paul stuck his tongue out to him and saw Brian watching them from the corner of his eyes. Shit, he knew something. What, Paul didn’t know. But he knew something. He could see it in the man’s eyes.

              ‘I’m not so sure about this, Macca.’ John called from the changing room.

‘What? Why not? Too tight?’ Paul asked. He heard John laugh from behind the curtain and he heard a zipper being closed. Next, John stepped out of the little changing room. Paul had difficulty trying not to laugh out loud. But it was hardly possible. John looked ridiculous. Like a child, trying on his dad clothes.

‘I wish it was too tight.’ The child said. Paul laughed at that and rose to his feet, pulling at the clothes John was wearing, seeing how it would look if someone would take it in. John thought of it as nothing, seeing as Paul did that regularly with his jeans, since his father wouldn’t let him buy any drainpipes.

              Brian, however watched the pair with curiosity. He could see how Paul’s fingers would brush over John’s waist, hips, shoulders and thighs so comfortably and easily. Almost tenderly. He could see how Paul’s hands lingered a little at intimate spots just a little too long before moving on. The little things were subtle and hardly noticeable if one wasn’t looking for them, but so clear to Brian now. Now he knew. He was certain. John and Paul… He swallowed thickly as Paul pulled John’s jeans up and almost spooned up behind him, his crotch almost touching John’s bum. Definitely. Brian wasn’t too sure what to think about it.

              ‘Let’s just try another one.’ John said as he looked at himself in the mirror. Paul looked up from pulling at the pieces of clothing and nodded with a smile. A thankful smile. John moved away from his boyfriend and stood in front of Brian with a challenging grin.

‘What else have you got?’ he asked him. Brian blinked a few times, coming back out of his daydreaming and nodded before skimming through suits again. Ringo came to stand next to John.

‘You alright?’ He asked him. John noticed Brian peaking his ears. He felt his chest tightened and made a quick note to himself to talk to Paul about him. If he was queer, as he and Paul suspected, then he might actually catch up on what exactly was going on between him and Paul. He turned his head to Ringo.

‘Yeah. Just needs getting used to.’ He told him. Ringo nodded.

‘Sure. But… you guys have done this before. Before all the leather gear.’

‘Yes, Richie, but that was before John got hung up about tight leather pants and leather jackets.’ George came between both from behind them. John looked over his shoulder with a grin.

‘And besides, those were hardly proper suits.’ John added with a wink.

‘How about this?’ Brian suddenly said as he held up another suit. John took it from the man’s hand without a moan, surprising Brian immensely. The other three didn’t seem that surprised, though.

              ‘No. It’s rubbish.’ John called out from the changing room again. Paul grabbed the handle of the door, obviously wanting to open it, but he didn’t, as if he had changed his mind at the last moment. Brian knew he had indeed changed his mind because he was there.

‘John, you have to give it a shot. You can’t say it’s shit with every suit.’ He told him instead. John groaned from behind the door and Brian heard something fall to the ground from the other changing room, which was taken by George.

‘I err… I have to agree with John, though.’ George spoke, ‘No way I’m going to wear this in public.’

‘Why?’ Ringo asked before Paul even had a change.

‘I can literally see my balls through this thing!’ John exclaimed, making all them burst out in fit of laughter.

‘Good to know my bollocks are something to laugh about.’ John muttered softly.

              ‘And? How’s that one?’ Paul asked. He was leaning against the wall, smoking a ciggy as he waited with Ringo for the other two to finish getting changed for the fourth time.

‘I’m not superman, Paul. I don’t even have any fucking pants on yet! I can’t get changed that quickly in a telephone cell, never mind this bloody closet.’

‘I think it looks ad _or_ a _ble_.’ George told them sarcastically from behind his door, his voice drenched with disgust.

‘Alright. Next one, then.’ Ringo said as he turned around to get the next two suits from Brian.

              ‘I look like a bird. That’s all I’m gonna say.’ John said, making Brian and Paul their cheeks flush a light pink.

              ‘Eh? How about this?’ Paul asked as he got another suit from the pile that was slowly reducing to nothing. John cocked his head to its side as he took in the suit. It was a plain, simple, greyish black suit.  Collarless, yes, and the slacks looked rather tight. It went with a black tie and a white dress-shirt. Something about it appealed to John. He didn’t know what it was. But it looked nice, even though it was neat.

‘I like it.’ Ringo said with a click of his tongue. George furrowed a brow at that, but left it at that. John bit his lip and gave a slight nod, making Paul smile and sigh with relieve. He got them all one each to try on.

              ‘How do I look, George?’ Paul asked as he took a good look at himself in the mirror. He looked good, he thought. And George obviously thought so too.

‘Smart. “Panties-wettingly” good.’ George told him, making Paul giggle.

‘Whose panties are that, Harrison? Yours?’ John called from his changing room.

‘Fuck off, Lennon.’ George shot back at him.

‘Don’t mind him, George. He’s just jealous.’ Paul told his friend as he gave himself another good look in the mirror.

‘Ha, as if.’ John replied.

‘Well, I think you look great, too, Georgie. And thanks for the compliment.’ Paul told his friend as he flicked his hair back. Right at that moment Ringo stepped out of the changing room and Paul was sure he heard the man moan out loud as his eyes fell on George.

‘Shit…’ He muttered softly. Paul couldn’t help but grin. He had to admit. George did look fantastic in that suit. So far they all did. Paul liked it a lot. It was rebellious in a very subtle way. As if they were kind of toeing the line.

‘Looks good, Richie.’ George said, obviously not having heard the exclaim of his boyfriend on his good looks. Ringo blushed slightly and smiled broadly.

‘You think so?’ Ringo asked him. George nodded quickly.

‘Well, you’re not too bad yourself.’ Paul shook his head and leaned in to whisper into George’s ear.

‘I think you’re into some fun tonight, George. I would ask if you could keep the suit on, if I were you.’ He whispered softly so Brian couldn’t, making George’s jaw drop. Brian just looked from the one boy to the other, not quite getting what was going on and what Paul had just said.

              ‘John?’ Paul asked with a knock on his door.

‘Hmm?’

‘You okay in there?’

‘Yes, Er… fine… could you… Could you come in here a second?’ John asked him and Paul nodded before opening the door and stepping in. He tried not to gasp at the gorgeous sight before him. John in that suit… He was a wet dream walking.

‘Close the door.’ John ordered him and Paul did so without a second thought. He’d do anything for that man right now. He saw John taking a deep breath before he turned around to him.

‘What do you think?’ He asked him, as he chewed his lip.

‘John… you… fuck, luv… You look absolutely amazing.’ Paul whispered softly as he walked over to his boyfriend and started to move his hands up and down John’s body, feeling every little bit of that man’s body, feeling how well the suit fitted him.

‘You think so?’ John asked him, smile on his lips. Paul nodded.

‘It’s neat, though, isn’t it?’ John asked him as he turned back to face the mirror on the wall. Paul spooned up behind him, wrapping his arms around the man’s chest.

‘I like it. A lot.’ He answered hotly, letting his breath tickle over the skin of John’s neck, before pressing his lips against the skin. The man shuddered at the feeling.

‘But… it’s neat.’ John stated again, his breathing unsteady. Paul blinked a few times at John words before he slowly nodded.

‘Yes, but…’

‘But what?’

‘But, it’s like… a subtle rebellion. With it being collarless and tight fitting. You thighs are basically wrapped up like a little present.’ Paul told him, empathizing his words by caressing the said thighs. John laughed at his last words.

‘You want to unwrap it?’ He asked him teasingly. Paul hummed at that.

‘Hmm… always, luv.’ He answered. It stayed quiet for a while as John checked himself out in the mirror again a few times.

              ‘But… you don’t think it’s… too neat?’ He asked his boyfriend one more time. Still doubting if it was indeed as good as it looked. Paul shook his head.

‘No. I think it’s great. Kind of like your school uniform, you know. Loosen the tie, don’t tuck in your shirt, whatever.’

‘But I don’t like it when I don’t tuck it in.’

‘Well, then, just tuck it in. John we look brilliant. They’ll like us. And I think Ringo really wants to see George in this suit much more often.’ Paul giggled into John’s ear.

‘We’ll do it for Ringo, then.’ John concluded. Paul nodded before kissing the shell of John’s ear and licking over it teasingly. John groaned at the feeling.

‘Not only Ringo, luv.’ Paul said with a wink before pulling John’s chin towards him and kissing him full on the lips.

              ‘We’ll take these.’ Paul exclaimed as he opened the door wide and him and John stepped outside as if they hadn’t just been kissing like horny teenagers two seconds ago. Paul was certain he heard a gasp as they saw John in the suit. And he could swear Brian was wiping some drool of his face as he turned to him with a content smile. Brian smiled back and nodded thankfully at him.

‘Alright,’ He told them, ‘I’ll go pay. You boys get dressed again and wait for me here. I have something else to tell you boys.’ The boys nodded and Brian turned around to pay for the suits with a happy smile on his face. Paul smiled proudly to himself as he saw George turning to his boyfriend with a mischievous smile on his face.

‘I think I’m going to keep this on, just a tad bit longer. How about you, Richie?’ He said. Ringo swallowed thickly and nodded faintly as he took a deep breath to calm himself down.

‘I… I think I might as well.’ He told him, his voice shaky.

              Ringo was the one to tackle George on the bed, pinning him down under him with his hand at his wrists,  and straddling the back of the younger man’s thighs, legs on either side of George’s slim hips that rocked up against him.

‘You literally have no idea how hard you were making it for me there.’ Ringo told him, his breath heavy and irregular. George grinned and grinded his hips up against Ringo’s, feeling his erection slide over his bum.

              When Brian returned from paying the suits, he came back to find half of the boys gone. Paul and John were still there, silently talking to each other, but Ringo and George were nowhere in sight. Brian took a deep breath as he approached the two boys. He decided not to bring whatever was going on between the two boys up yet. Paul turned to him as he heard his footsteps approach.

‘Where are Ringo and George?’ Brian asked the two men when he stood near enough. Paul shrugged.

‘They left already. Ringo mentioned something about having plans that he could not delay and that George was needed as well.’ He told him. Brian groaned and shook his head disapprovingly, even though he knew the boys were not telling him the completely truth, for John was obviously trying to bite back a fit of laughter.

‘They do that from time to time.’ Paul added.

‘Well, they can’t anymore when you boys have concerts to attended and interviews to give. Or even when I just want to have a word with them. Paul, would you tell them that?’  He didn’t even wait for an answer, knowing Paul would do as he asked.

‘Now. I still have quite a few things to arrange, so I’ll keep it short. The four of you will have to come to London this Friday. I know this gives you boys little time to make arrangements for your trip to London and I _am_ aware that some of you still have school,’ For this he turned to Paul, who just nodded in understanding, ‘But this is most important. I have managed to get the four of you tickets for the train leaving at eight in the morning and I’ve booked a room for you at a hotel. Nothing fancy of course, but it’s clean. I will come and get you at the hotel at one ‘o clock after lunch and we’ll discuss things further. Here is a piece of paper with all the information, the tickets, the route to the hotel etc. As for your suits, I want you boys to wear it when I come to pick you up, understood?’ The boys nodded and Paul quickly took the envelope with the papers from the man as he continued to talk.

‘Good. Now please, be on time, don’t miss the train and sleep and eat well. It will a tiring day. I will see you and the other two then.’ Brian said. John and Paul nodded again with a big smile on their faces.

‘Good day, boys.’ Brian told them before he turned around and started to walk away.

‘See you, Brian.’ John shouted after him.

              George groaned loudly and bit down at the pillow underneath his head as Ringo grinded down on him as he bit down the back of his neck, holding him down with the weight of his body.

‘So hot like this… in that… suit.’ Ringo puffed hotly against his neck before biting down again. This time George’s head snapped back with a helpless yelp. He relaxed again as Ringo stilled his movements, obviously realising what exactly he was doing.

‘Shit… Georgie… You okay? I’m not hurting you, am I?’ The older man asked him. George quickly shook his head and thrusted with his hips against Ringo again, urging him on.

‘Because if I am…’ Ringo started before George cut him off quickly.

‘No. Just… ugh… fuck me… It’s alright. Bite me… I want you to… make me feel it.’ George pleaded, knowing this was his chance to get Ringo to notice about what he needed. Ringo, however, didn’t react to George’s word right away.

‘You… You what?’ He asked him, being rather confused.

‘Just… Just bloody well make me fucking feel it.’ George urged him, ‘Now… please.’

‘You want me to hurt you?’  Ringo asked him, to clarify what George was asking off him. George bit his lips and shook his head.

‘No… Not per se… just… don’t tread me like I’m made of china.’

‘but…’

‘Do. It. I want you to. Really. Please…’ George almost begged him one last time, before Ringo’s hips were finally thrusting against him again and his teeth were nibbling again, harder this time.

‘This okay?’ He asked.

‘More…’ George rasped out and Ringo nodded before tangling his fingers into George’s hair and giving a rather hard yank, surprising the both of them.

‘Shit…’ George moaned wantonly as he spread his legs just a little wider, ‘Fuck…’

‘That was the plan, dear.’ Ringo answered him with a slight chuckle, ‘In this fucking suit.’ George groaned out Ringo’s name and bit down again.

              George felt relieved about finally having told Ringo about what he wanted. And the older man actually surprised him by doing just that with so much enthusiasm. He was still laying right there on top of him, his one hand pinning George’s wrists above him into the matrass as the other slit underneath George and began to undo the man’s belt buckle. Ringo’s tongue swirled over the shell of George’s ear repeatedly with an occasional nibble and his hips were still grinding against George’s bum. The younger man regretted not having said anything sooner. This was absolutely amazing. Like a wet-dream coming true. And according to the obscene things that the older man whispered into his ear, Ringo wasn’t about to complain about this either. God, the things he could do with that amazing mouth of his. George loved every single minute of it.

              ‘You look so sexy with this suit on. Did you know?’ Ringo asked George as he had the belt unbuckled and started to undo the man’s trousers completely, feeling George’s erection press against his hand through the material. George’s cheeks flushed pink at Ringo’s words. He wasn’t used to people calling him sexy and the fact that it was Ringo while he was actually sliding his hands down his pants and into his underwear… _shit_ … It made it ten times better. Or worse. George gasped as he felt Ringo’s cold fingers tease his erection, slowly and softly moving them up and down, before grasping him completely and tightening his fingers around the shaft. He arched his back up at the weird-feeling touch.  

‘Shit… Richie.’ He cursed softly. He could feel Ringo grin against the shell off his ear.

‘So hard already…’ The older man muttered as a response before tightening his grip even more and giving his boyfriend a few hard strokes, making the younger man yelp.

‘Cold…’ He gasped. Ringo snickered and let go of George’s wrists and lifted up the man’s hips instead, carefully forcing him to get on his knees. As soon as George noticed he assumed the position. Ringo smiled and turned George’s chin to him for a kiss. George hummed against him, sending a tinkle straight to Ringo’s crotch.

‘I’ll warm you up.’ Ringo quickly told him as he broke the kiss. George smiled at that and he arched his back as Ringo let his hand slide from the man’s shoulder blades all the way down over the man’s still very much clothed back and arse, where they stilled with a little squeeze.

              ‘Richie…’ George breathed heavily as Ringo continued to caress the man’s bum with his hands and lifted himself off George’s body. George could feel the man’s eyes practically drilling into his arse. It made him feel slightly self-conscious.

‘Hmm?’ The older man asked. George bit his lip and pushed his bum into the teasing touch of Ringo’s hands. Ringo grinned as he noticed George was already having trouble containing himself. He chuckled naughtily to himself before reaching forward again and taking a hold of George’s already leaking cock as the other hand continued to massage the man’s bum.

‘I… Want you… please…’ George asked him, his hips trusting forward for more of that delicious friction that devilish hand was giving him.

‘What do you want, luv?’ Ringo asked, deciding to tease the man a little bit longer. He gave the man’s cock another rough pull and Ringo could see the man’s legs were almost giving out on him. He smiled to himself. George had no idea how good he looked like this. All ready and wanton. All _his_. That last thought shocked him. He never had been much of a possessive person. But with George like this… and George asking him to be like that in a way… He couldn’t help himself.

              ‘I want… want you… Inside of me.’ George moaned out. Ringo gasped at his words and stilled his movements for a while. George had never actually said that out loud. Not like that. And now that he had. It had nearly made him come. And he would have, had he or George been touching him there. He cursed under his breath and closed his eyes to retain his self-control. He took a couple of deep breaths and slowly his hands started working again. But just to be sure, he kept his eyes closed, knowing the sight of George would be too much. After a few seconds Ringo’s eyes opened slowly and it didn’t take him long or he had removed his pants and was at the point of throwing them across the room. Quickly after that his jacket and tie followed.

‘Take of the jacket.’ Ringo told his lover, who obliged quickly, ‘But leave the rest on.’ George nodded and soon the jacket laid with Ringo’s clothing next to the bed.

              ‘George. You look so good.’ Ringo moaned as he kissed between the man’s shoulder blades and slowly moved further down, kissing every bit of still very much clothed skin he passed on the way, jerking him off as he did this.

‘Lube?’ Ringo asked in a slight posh voice, making George chuckle as he reached underneath the matrass with his left hand and retrieved a bottle of lube they had hit there. He quickly handed it to Ringo.

‘Thanks, luv.’ Ringo said him as he kissed the small of George’s back and let go of George’s erection. Slowly he moved his hand over George’s skin to the man’s slacks and slowly began to drag them down, just over the man’s arse, wanting to leave as much of the suit on the younger man.

‘Would you please hurry up already?’ George told him as he began to stroke his arse cheeks again. Ringo chuckled and leaned forward to place a sweet kiss on the man’s cheek as an apology, which was only half meant. He quickly opened the bottle and squirted some on his fingers. He sat back again and parted the cheeks with one hand as he let a finger circle George’s hole.

              George groaned at the feeling and let his head hang down slack between his arms, just wanting to enjoy that strangely good feeling. He gasped as he felt the cold finger suddenly press into him. Ringo kissed his back again as an apology, but George didn’t care. He moaned and pressed back against the finger breaching him, wanting more of it as soon as possible.

‘Relax,’ Ringo told him, his voice croaky, ‘You’ll hurt yourself.’

‘I told you to make me feel it.’ Ringo laughed at that and nodded.

‘Right.’ He said as he pushed his finger further inside of his lover.  

‘Hmm.. Feels good.’ George hummed and Ringo kissed his back again before starting to move his finger freely in and out of him, curling it up inside of him and searching for that one spot. As soon as he found it, he added another finger and took his time scissoring and opening him up. George was pretty much groaning and moaning for most of the time and urging him on the other.

              When Ringo started to move his third finger in, George stopped him.

‘Enough…’ He breathed out heavily, as if had just ran a marathon, ‘I’m ready.’

‘Sure?’ Ringo asked as he stilled his movements.

‘Positive.’ George agreed with a smile. Ringo nodded and kissed his back again before letting his fingers slip out. He quickly picked up the bottle of lube again and applied a generous amount of lube on his cock, not caring what George said about wanting to feel it. He was not going to hurt him and therefor if he couldn’t take his time preparing him, he’s going to do the trick with lube. He spread it all around before he lined his cock up with George’s opening. He leaned over so his chest was resting against George’s still covered back and he kissed the man’s neck one more time reassuringly (he couldn’t help it) before slowly pushing in.

              George groaned loudly as his arsehole slowly began to stretch so that Ringo could push himself inside of him. The burn was less than George had expected, but still it felt great, the mixture of uneasiness and slight pain combined with the pleasure of being filled and slowly the burn started to reduce. George bit down the bed sheet and forced himself to relax. He could feel Ringo’s heavy breathing against the back of his neck and took a couple of deep breaths. He had noticed Ringo applying more lube than normally and right now he was glad that he had done that. Though, he thought it felt amazing, it was something he still had to get used to. George opened his mouth to tell Ringo that, but no other sound came out than a muffled groan as Ringo slit fully in.

              ‘Shit…’ Ringo cursed and the man held still for a while, letting George het used to the feeling. The feeling of George’s pants and belt digging into his thighs, was more painful than anticipated, but Ringo liked it. For some reason. He liked the feel of George’s silk shirt sliding against his chest as he moved a bit and when the man nodded, Ringo started to move. Slowly at first, but soon he picked up speed and he was thrusting in and out of his lover, who couldn’t bring out anything more than breathless pleas and moans, with all his might. The feeling of the clothes against his thighs as he moved in and out was more than just a little arousing. And the way the man looked. All dressed up nicely, shirt ruffled and his pants down to his thighs and his legs spread open as far as he could… Breath-taking it was.

              George grabbed the bed sheet tightly and twisted it in his hand as he moaned with every single one of Ringo’s thrusts, feeling how the fabric of his jeans stretched and slowly burning into his thighs. He was certain it would leave a mark, but the pain it was giving him, only made everything else feel so much better and more intense.

‘s… Good… ugh…’ He moaned, trying to let Ringo know how amazing he was feeling.

‘I… Know… fuck, George… Won’t last very… ugh… long.’ Ringo groaned out in response.  George laughed at that.

‘Well…’ He breathed out, ‘You’re… just… going… to have to… think… about dead… kittens for a while… because you’re not… going to stop… anytime… soon.’ George managed to moan out between breaths.

‘You’ll kill me… One of these days.’ Ringo replied as he tangled a hand into George’s hair and pulled his head back, making George yelp.

‘Good… enough of… a feel… for ya?’ He asked him playfully. George moaned at that and Ringo could feel him try to nod, but he wouldn’t let him. Instead he just tightened his grip.

‘Fuck… yeah…’ George replied, ‘Now… Shut up… and… shit… fuck me…’ Ringo nodded quickly and focused on his thrusting again, making sure he hit his lover’s prostate with every move and soon a found a good, fast rhythm that got George to fall flat on his belly with a groan. Ringo let himself fall with him and continued to move.

              ‘Hmmm… Richie…’ George moaned into the pillow under his head after another couple of minutes. Ringo was biting his lips hard and thinking about old women in bikini’s to keep himself  from coming. He could not believe George’s stamina .

‘Gonna… ugh… come..’ George finally rasped out and Ringo had never felt more relieved in his life. He pressed his lips back against the back of George’s neck and bit down lightly, enough for George to feel it, but not enough to leave a mark.

‘Do it…’ He muttered back, his voice as weak and thick as he felt, ‘Please…’ George nodded and began to move his hips with Ringo, making the thrusts even more intense and Ringo was so happy when he heard George cry out and felt the man’s insides twitch around him, practically milking him. And then Ringo let himself go as well, filling the younger man before letting himself fall down on top of him. Spend. Tired. And utterly shagged out.

‘Fuck…’ Was all he could breathe out.

* * *

 

‘Well, that… that has been different.’ George breathed heavily as he stared up at the ceiling. He could feel Ringo, who had rolled off them and curled up against him like he normally did, breathing down his neck and giving him goosebumps. The older man nodded and nuzzled his nose against George’s shoulder before looking up at him with concern.

‘You did… enjoy that, did you?’ He asked him almost shyly, making George laugh and wrap his arms around the man and pull him in for a simple kiss on the lips.

‘You’re absolutely adorable, do you know that.’ George told him as he pulled away. Ringo blushed and rolled back on his back.

 

‘Just checking.’ He told him, sounding a little hurt. George chuckled at that and rolled onto his side, laying his head on Ringo’s chest and kissing him there sweetly.

‘Thank you…’ He muttered before looking up with innocent eyes and asking his boyfriend, ‘Can I take this suit off now? It’s not as comfortable as you might expect.’

‘It doesn’t look that comfortable at all at times like this.’ Ringo replied.

‘Exactly.’

              George slept quietly on the bed, his head resting on his lover’s chest and an arm swung over it. Their legs laid entangled under the thick blankets. He didn’t make a sound. You couldn’t even hear him breath and if it wasn’t for his breath tickling his naked chest, Ringo would have thought he had died. But the younger man just slept quietly, deeply and most of all contently. Occasional he would tighten his grip on his lover and nuzzle his face into the man’s chest as he inhaled deeply, taking in the other man’s send like a dog.

              Ringo however, couldn’t sleep a wink. He had tried. But het simply couldn’t. He was relaxed, calm, contend, happy and he didn’t have anything to worry about. But yet, he couldn’t. For no reason at all. Except maybe that he was excited, but still slightly nervous. He was still doubtful about his drumming in this band, especially now that they got a change to become famous. What if Brian or a producer would notice his drumming was not how it was supposed to be? Or if they simply didn’t like him? Or if they found someone even better? So, maybe he did have some things to worry about. He knew it was idiotic. No one had complained about his drumming after his first band, people even complimented him regularly on it, but that one comment that was made, when he was no more than thirteen, it stung. It still did. After about six years, it still stung.

              He had told George about it. Only George. George had seemed to understand, which wasn’t odd if you surrounded yourself with John and Paul, who could play guitar as easily as spider made its web, especially Paul. It was their nature. George must have felt intimidated by them. And maybe still was. But he had told him that he should not worry so much and just enjoy himself. They wouldn’t kick him out. They were his friends. And George… George was… his _boyfriend_. Ringo couldn’t help but giggle happily at the thought. George had been right of course. He should have a little faith in himself.

              ‘Why are you awake?’ A sleepy, croaky voice suddenly asked him. Ringo blinked a few times before he looked down. George hadn’t moved, but his eyes were now open and he was watching him.

‘Can’t sleep.’ Ringo answered him. George didn’t reply to that.

‘Can I ask you a question?’ He asked instead. Ringo nodded as he began to draw little circles and other drawings and figures onto George’s arm with his fingertips.

‘Course.’

‘Why weren’t you like that before?’ The question came out of nowhere and Ringo didn’t have a clue what it was about. Was like what before?

‘Just now, I mean. In bed. All… _needy_ and _possessive_?’ George clarified.

‘Oh, I just… I never thought, you’d… you’d want me to. You don’t really seem the type, you know.’ Ringo answered softly as he stared back up at the ceiling. George obviously wasn’t satisfied with that answer and moved to sit up a bit, leaning on his elbows with his head in his hands.

‘What’d you mean? Not the type? What type am I?’ He asked him with a curious shine in his eyes. Ringo shrugged with a sleepy smile.

‘I don’t know. When… when we first had our date, you got scared of the thunder and I protected you and since then I just continued doing that, I guess.’ He told him.

‘Sex is something completely different from thunder.’ George said with a grin. Ringo looked down at him and stroked his hair once, before continuing to draw circles.

‘Yes, I realise that. I’m not stupid.’ He replied. George sighed and laid back down on Ringo’s chest.

‘It’s cute, though. I have to give you that. You’re really cute, actually.’ The drummer laughed at that and placed a kiss on top of George’s head.

              John let his  coat fall onto the floor and didn’t even bother to put it on a peg. Paul shook his head and picked up and hung it with his own.

‘Ugh… What time is it? I’m exhausted.’ John complained as he sat down on the stairs, his head resting against the wall as he closed his eyes. Paul chuckled as he looked at his watch.

‘It’s only half past nine, John.’ He told him with a grin. John groaned.

‘Why, am I so tired?’ he asked. Paul shrugged and walked over to him, offering him his hand. John didn’t even look at it.

‘Mimi is probably still awake.’ He told Paul instead. Paul sighed defeated and sat down next to John, resting his head on the older man’s shoulder.

‘Should I tell her, Paul? Now? About London?’ John asked him.

‘Tomorrow would be best, I think. She’s probably already in bed, reading a book. And if she’s anything like you, she won’t appreciate it if you would interrupt her.’  Paul answered. John nodded at that and yawned.

‘John, I think we have to talk.’ Paul spoke, not lifting his head off of John’s shoulder. The man tensed up against him.

‘T-talk? Paul. You don’t… you don’t mean…’ John asked him, his voice a little shaky.

‘No, John. I don’t mean I want to break up. Relax, luv. I love you, remember.’ Paul told him quickly as he realised what John meant. The older man sighed with relieve.

‘Thank god… Don’t ever scare me like that, Paul.’ He told him. Paul swallowed tickly and felt his heart jump a he realised just how much that meant to them. He lifted his head off John’s shoulder and turned to him.

‘I mean Brian, John. I think he knows. About us.’ Paul told him.

‘I know.’ John answered.

              The two boys sat on opposite sides of the bed, knees dawn up and a mug of tea in their hands. It was completely dark in John’s bedroom save a little candle at John’s bedside table, which Paul was absolutely romantic.

‘He saw us?’ John asked as a whisper. They had to keep their voices down, or so Mimi had told them because the renter had some kind  of important thing going on early the next morning. Neither of the boys had really listened to what she had said, having far more important things on their mind.

‘Yes. After you had gone to get the first suit to try on and I kissed you as a thank you.’ Paul told him. The older man bit his bottom lip and furrowed his brow, looking like he was thinking very hard about a way to solve this thing.

‘And you are completely sure he saw us?’ John asked again. Paul merely nodded and drank a bit from his tea.

‘Shit…’

‘You can say that.’ Paul laughed weakly.

‘What do we do now?’

‘Don’t ask me.’

‘Do you think he’ll tell on us.’

‘No. Probably not. Seeing as he’s obviously queer himself. And he’d be missing one hell of an income if we get successful.’

‘True that.’ John agreed and sighed, ‘And Richie and George?’

‘No. doesn’t have a clue. John, we have to talk to him about it, I think. Tell him what going on. He might be able to help us.’ Paul told him as he moved a little closer so their feet were touching. John couldn’t help but grin at that as Paul rubbed them together. John had to admit that it wasn’t at all unpleasant. He seriously began to doubt that he would say no if Paul would ask if he could live-out that feet fetish of him.

‘How, then? I mean. We’re doing fine on our own, aren’t we?’

‘John. He _knows_ alright. And he’s going to be our manager. Besides, there wouldn’t be only downsides. If he knows about us we can have more time together perhaps. You know, in hotels and during recordings. We still have to hide it, and more so than before. I mean the press will be all over us, you know that. We’ll be the centre of attention and it will be good to have someone who could help us with the little things about hiding. I mean… some stuff might be nothing for us, but might look a bit odd. We’ll be helping us as well as providing us with more opportunities and freedom. He might be able to arrange things for us. A room with a big double bed and a large shower. Or a nice private place to stay during the holidays. I’m sure he has some great connections. He looks like that kind of guy.’ Paul explain. John licked his lips. The thought didn’t sound at all that bad. And Paul was right. He’d see the things that they wouldn’t see and it could help them hide and at the same time provide them more opportunities to be together. And since he already knows, it was probably the best to explain what was happening so he could keep that into consideration as well as giving him and Paul the opportunity to exploit it.

‘Alright… I can see what you mean. But, what about Richie and George? You want to tell him about them, too?’ John asked his boyfriend. Paul shrugged.

‘It’s only fair right?’ He answered. John nodded and drank his tea.

‘I suppose.’ He agreed, ‘And, how do you want to do this? I mean. Just say or what?’

‘Just say it. I mean… he already saw us. He won’t be too shocked, I think.’ Paul said with a chuckle as he let one of his feet run up and down John’s foot. John wondered if the younger man knew he was doing it at all. It didn’t seem like it.

‘And… And what if he says he have to stop?’ John heard himself suddenly ask with a trembling voice. The question didn’t seem to surprise Paul as much as it had himself. The man thought about it  for a bit before he spoke.

‘We’ll just continue and then we have to do it on our own.’ Paul told John. John didn’t quite believe it, Paul could see that. He saw it in the older man’s eyes. And for once he wasn’t sure if he believed it himself.

              The boys awoke the following morning by the sun shining upon their faces. Paul opened his eyes and chuckled as he heard John groan next to him and burry his face in the back of Paul’s neck. They must have forgotten to close the curtains last night. Paul felt his throat tighten as he thought about the night before. About John’s question and his answer. Paul couldn’t help thinking about it. The question had stuck with him and now he wasn’t that sure if he wanted to be famous at all. If this was at all a good idea. Which was ridiculous, he knew. It was his dream. John’s dream. It was their dream. The thought soothed him a little and he forced himself to push the remaining doubtful thoughts to the back of his mind and replace them with something happy. John’s birthday. It was today. And even though they had decided that they wouldn’t make anything  special of it, seeing as John only wanted to have sex with him and he already had that, and that the older man would only celebrate it with his aunt for once, because this was probably the last of his birthdays in Liverpool, Paul still wanted to give John something. And he knew just what to give the older man.

              Paul wiggled free out of John’s embrace and moved down, underneath the covers and laid down between John’s legs. The older man hummed at the feeling of Paul sliding down his body, but kept his eyes closed, still not truly wanting to wake up. But when Paul’s fingers brushed over his flaccid cock that was still tucked safely in his boxer briefs, he spread his legs a little wider and reached down to tangle his fingers into Paul’s hair and decided not to fall asleep again. Paul smiled and looked up at the older man as he continued to stroke John’s slowly hardening cock through the material. John hardened quickly under his touch and Paul kissed his inner thighs before reaching for the waistband and dragging the underpants off lazily and lovingly. John hummed as his cock sprang free and nearly into Paul’s face. The younger man giggled and gently took John in his hand and gave him a couple of light strokes until John was semi erect and Paul wrapped his lips around the head. John groaned and his fingers gripped Paul’s hair tighter as he thrusted his hips up and slit his cock further into Paul’s warm, welcome mouth. Paul sucked him lazily, taking his time and letting John slowly thrust in and out of his mouth as he slowly caressed John’s inner thighs. He circled his tongue around the head of John’s cock and sucked him a little harder as he heard John’s breathing get rougher and more rapid. He hummed contently as he felt John tuck at his hair and cupped the man’s balls in his hand and rolled them around, massaging him and sucking his cock until he felt John’s balls tighten in his hands. He looked up at John one last time before closing his eyes and bobbing up and down John’s cock quickly, sucking him in deeper and deep as he lightly squeezed John’s balls until John’s fingernails dug into his scalp and the man moaned out his name as he came into Paul’s mouth. The younger man let John ride out his orgasm and swallowed every drop of cum that entered his mouth and licked him completely clean before John cupped his cheek and pulled him up to kiss him. He could taste himself on Paul’s tongue, but he didn’t mind. He just moaned into Paul’s mouth as their tongues dancing together lazily.

              ‘Hmmm… What was that for?’ John asked as they pulled apart. Paul smiled and laid down with his head on John’s chest and  gently massaged John’s muscles.

‘Happy birthday, John.’ He said as kissed the man’s chest. John smiled and hugged Paul tightly, silently hoping Paul would forget about school and stay in bed with him. However, he had no such luck.

‘I should probably call George and Ring about Friday before I leave for school. You can shower first if you want.’ The younger man told him. John just nodded with a sigh.

‘Fine…’  He told him and kissed the top of his boyfriend’s head sweetly. 

* * *

 

When John got out of the shower, Paul was already waiting for him on his bed, fully dressed and his schoolbag at his feet. He looked gorgeous, with his hair slightly ruffled and in his school uniform. John smiled and decided they needed to use that outfit for something quite different once Paul was out of there.

 

‘I’m leaving. I have to go and pick something up from home before school. And I can’t be late if I want the day off Friday. I think my dad is still pissed at me for getting thrown out of class. I don’t think the job did it.’ Paul said with a slight chuckle.

‘Come on, Paul. That was ages ago.’ John told him. Paul shrugged.

‘Yeah, well… My dad doesn’t forget about those things. And he still wants me to be a doctor or a teacher. I’d better get on his good side today if I want to get him to call me in sick Friday or something like that.’ Paul answered with a sigh. He stood up from the bed, picked up his schoolbag and swung it over his shoulder.

‘Anyways, I’ve phoned George and they’ll be there Friday. He’ll make sure Ringo is there, too.’ He continued. John nodded and started to move about the room, finding something to put on for that day. He knew Paul was still watching him.

‘I’ll call you tonight, alright?’ Paul asked. John looked up at Paul and nodded. Paul smiled at him as he saw the happy look that must have crept on his face. He walked over to John, cupped the man’s cheek in the palm of his hand and planted a cute little kiss on John’s lips.

‘I’ll speak to you tonight, then. Don’t forget to ask your dad about Friday. I’m not going there without you, alright. This is _our_ band, Paul.’ John told him as a kind of promise and put the emphasis on “our”. Paul smiled broadly and kissed John again as a thank you.

‘You won’t need to.’ He whispered as they parted again and kissed him one last time before turning around and walking away.

              John watched him go and sighed as he heard Paul going down the stairs. _Our band._ It through John’s head echoed within John’s head. It was true. It wasn’t John’s band anymore. It was theirs. John smiled to himself at the thought.

‘Oh and don’t forget to tell Mimi!’ John suddenly heard Paul shout back up. He nearly jumped two feet in the air and he laughed at how silly he was acting.

‘I won’t!’ He quickly shouted back, but nonetheless his voice was wobbling slightly. Luckily Paul didn’t notice. Or he didn’t ask further about it. Either way, John was thankful for that.

              Paul parked his bicycle outside of his house and quickly ran inside to the kitchen. His father and brother were having breakfast.

‘Morning, son.’ Jim McCartney greeted him without looking up. Mike looked up from his food and grinned at his older brother. Paul guessed he was hoping he would get into trouble for not coming home last night.

‘Hi dad! I’m just picking up some stuff before school. Is there any tea left? I haven’t yet eaten.’ Paul said as he walked about the kitchen, trying to find something edible.

‘Sorry.’ His father simply said. Paul hummed with disappointment and just grabbed himself an apple and a slide of bread which he ate dry.

‘Thanks for calling me last night, though. That was really considerate of you, Paul.’ His dad told him as he scanned the paper. Michael almost dropped his toast and looked at Paul with a doubtful look. Paul just winked at him.

‘Oh, it’s nothing. Didn’t want you to worry, that’s all.’ He answered his father.

‘Yes, but I’d rather not have you spending the night at John’s during schooldays, alright?’

‘Sure, dad. I’ll keep that in mind.’ Paul answered with a smile and he took a bite from his apple, ‘Oh and speaking of schooldays. Mr Epstein wants us to meet him this Friday in London.’

‘LONDON?!’ Jim McCartney exclaimed in shock and finally looked up from his paper. Paul merely nodded and took another bite.

‘Yes. He said we have to arrange some things there. He’ll get us a hotel room. Can you believe it, dad? London! It’s truly happening now.’ Paul answered with a big, happy smile on his face.

‘But… But what about school? You can’t go. You’ve got school. You need an education, Paul. It’s very important that you do. You need something to fall back on if this doesn’t work out.’ Jim told him, before quickly adding: ‘Not that I doubt that you’ll get there, obviously. But it’s a hard life, you know.’

‘I know, dad. But it’s just for one day. Brian wants to talk to me and George about it in London so he can arrange something for us. Of course he knows we should at least finish school. I promise I won’t drop out. It’s just for one day. But we need to take this opportunity. You know we do. Please, dad. It’s my dream.’ Paul quickly told him and looked at his father with begging eyes. He hoped his father would let him have a day free from school. He needed to go to London. He just had to.

‘Oh, I don’t know, Paul. Can’t you wait until you’ve finished school?’

‘No. No, dad. Because we might not get this chance again. Maybe everything has changed in a few months’ time and then no one would want us anymore. Please, dad. It’s just for one day. I promise you I will finish school, alright. I promise. I’ll talk to Brian about it. Please. It’s just for one day.’ Paul pleaded. His father sighed.

‘Oh, alright. Just this once. But we’re not finished about this, alright?’ He finally agreed. Paul smiled happily at his father and pecked him on his cheek.

‘Thanks, dad!’ He said and he took another bite from his apple before walking away.

‘I’ll call you in sick. But if I notice any slacking off in school, there will be consequences, you hear me?’ Jim McCartney shouted after his son. Paul just hummed and walked upstairs to his bedroom to get a couple books he needed so he could leave. At least his dad was okay with it.

              School was boring and Paul was glad when they were told they could go at the end of his last class. He hadn’t been able to think of anything apart from their trip to London. At what kind of hotel they would be staying, what they were going to eat, where, with whom, what they were going to do? It was crazy. Paul had never been to London. After his mum’s  death their dad had been very careful with their expenses and a trip to London wasn’t cheap. And going there with John. It would be their first trip away together since they started seeing each other. Should he be worried?

              Paul decided not to care as he stumbled through the hallways on his way out. Just one more day, he thought to himself, just one more day at this stinking school and we’ll be in London gaining fame. It was unbelievable. But Paul was nervous as well. He had to talk to Brian Epstein about him and John. And perhaps also about Richie and George. Not that he would do that without their permission. But it made him feel nervous nonetheless. What if Brian decided not to work for them after he had told him? Or what if he did say they had to stop. Paul felt his heart sank deep into his chest. It was a heavy burden, dating John, but worth it. They would work it out. One way or another. Even if that meant they had to hide or break-up completely. They would work it out. He hoped.

              The four boys met up that Friday in front of the train station. George turned up with Richie as promised and John was as always fashionably late just to piss everyone off. Paul knew he should have picked him up, rather than having him come here by himself. What if his aunt wouldn’t let him go? Paul groaned and looked at his watch again and again as he tapped his foot impatiently, slowly driving both Richie and George mental.

‘Paul, would you stop that?! You’re driving me bonkers, here.’ George complained. Paul shot his friend a warning look before sighing and stopping his foot tapping.

‘Thanks.’ Richie said with a smile, which Paul answered weakly.

‘He’ll be here, you know. It’s his band!’ George told his friend. Paul nodded, but he couldn’t help himself from scanning the area.

‘I know… Just… I’d wish he’d be here already, you know.’ He answered.

‘We’ve still got time.’

‘I know, Richie. I know.’ Paul replied.

              Luckily for all of them it wasn’t long before Paul saw something that looked a lot like his boyfriend walking into their direction with a little trunk in his hand. Paul grinned to himself as he realised Auntie Mimi was walking with him and John looked like he was about to snap.

‘Oh, looks who’s here.’ George said. Paul turned to him and smiled knowingly.

‘Look who he’s brought.’ He told him and George burst out with laughter as he noticed Mimi as well.

‘Well, at least she let him go.’ Ringo said, but he couldn’t help but snicker as well.

‘Or she’s still convincing him not to, judging by the look on John’s face.’ George added. Paul shook his head and turned back to John, who had quickened his pace and was now getting close. Paul could even hear Mimi complaining about his glasses already.

              ‘Morning, John.’ Paul said with a cheeky little wink. John groaned in acknowledgement and dropped his trunk right at Paul’s feet.

‘Fuck off.’ He told him.

‘John!’ Mimi exclaimed, being outraged to hear such words coming out of her nephew’s mouth. John just smiled and wrinkled his nose at her.

‘Now, remember what I said John. No messing about. That money I gave you is just for emergencies and necessary investments.’ Mimi told him, ignoring his attitude.

‘Oh, investments, how fancy.’ George teased. When both Mimi and John shot him a warning look, Paul noticed how much John actually looked like his aunt, even if he didn’t want to hear a word about it, and chuckled to himself.

‘And wear your glasses. They weren’t free and you should wear them if you don’t want to get mugged or ran over.’ Aunt Mimi continued. John sighed and nodded as he took his aunt by her shoulder and walked her off.

‘I will, Mimi. Now, just go home, do your shopping and have a nice and peaceful time without me, okay?’

‘Are you sure you’re going to be okay?’ Mimi asked. John smiled at her, knowing she was serious.

‘I’m sure. And I’ll call you as soon as I’m at the hotel, however, I don’t know when that will be.’ John told her with a kind smile.

‘Alright. And do eat well. Oh, and Paul?’ she asked as she looked up. Paul turned his attention to her.

‘However much it pains me to say this, you are the most responsible and please take care of John.’ She told him. John couldn’t help but smile at that, knowing that compliment wasn’t just something. Perhaps she wouldn’t mind it if she knew about him and Paul. If it had to be a guy, it’d better be him, right? Good, responsible, smart James Paul McCartney. John rolled his eyes at Paul, keeping up the image and started to drag his aunt further off.

‘It’s just for two fucking days.’ He muttered under his breath.

‘Thank you, Mrs Smith! I will. Don’t you worry about him.’ Paul answered with a big smile. John’s aunt raised her hand as a thank you as John dragged her off.

              When they were finally far enough, John pulled his aunt against his chest for a hug. Mimi tensed up at the sudden act of affection, but soon returned the hug.

‘I’ll call you.’ John told her softly with a quiet sob. Mimi rubbed his back as she pulled away from him.

‘I know. I will, too. It’s only for a few days.’ She told him. John smiled weakly before shaking his head.

‘It won’t be anymore, soon.’ He told her. She nodded and took a deep breath, trying to collect herself and not to be affected by his words. She knew he was right.  

‘I know. I’m proud of you, John. I am. And you’re mum would be too. I’m certain.’ She told him. John smiled broadly at that and pulled her in for another hug and kissed the top of her head.

‘Thank you.’ He whispered. She laughed and pulled away. John could see she tried to keep herself together, but the look in her eyes gave here away. John gave her one last kiss on her cheek.

‘I’ll phone you as soon as I’m at the hotel.’ He told her and she nodded. John turned around and started to walk away.

‘Glasses, John!’ John heard her call after him and he just waved at her before taking out his glasses and putting them on his nose.

              John didn’t look back as he walked over to his friends. Paul had seen them, John knew by the way he was grinning knowingly at him.

‘Ready, John?’ Paul asked and John had to blink a few times. He had expected Paul to say something clever or tease him. But he did no such thing. Even the other two seemed surprised.

‘More than that, Macca.’ John replied before getting his bags and starting to walk towards the train that had just arrived at the station. The train to London. Their train to success.

              The train ride to London was calm and quiet. Though, Paul guessed it was probably only because they were all too excited and too nervous about what was going to happen. Neither of them had a clue, or could even guess what these coming two days had in store for them. So all they could do was wait. And wait. And wait. Ringo and George left together to get themselves some coffee. John read a book and Paul looked out of the window at the bypassing cities and villages.

              Paul laid his head down on John’s shoulder and his hand on John’s arm with a sigh. He could see the corners of John’s mouth curl up slightly.

‘You okay, Macca?’ He asked as he read on. Paul sighed again.

‘Yeah…’ He answered, ‘Just nervous and bored.’

‘Everything will be fine, you know.’ John told him. Paul nodded.

‘I know. Just… you know.’ He sighed. John nodded and pushed his book aside. He turned to Paul and wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close against him.

‘You shouldn’t worry about that. It won’t make a difference. We just have to wait and see what he’ll say about us.’ He told him sweetly and pressed his lips against Paul’s temple. Paul smiled and sniffed in John’s scent. He smiled so good and familiar. It comforted the younger man.

‘I know…’ He answered. Paul closed his eyes and laid his head on John’s chest.

‘I don’t want to lose you.’ He continued as he listened to John’s heart beating.

‘I love you.’ John told him as he kissed the top of his head and closed his eyes, enjoying their closeness.

              The two were awoken again when George and Ringo stormed back in their compartment and started shouting at them, not realising they had fallen asleep.

‘London! Londen! We’re getting close! You can see it! Out of the window! Oh Christ…’ George shouted with excitement and he felt silent as he realised John and Paul started to wake up. Paul groaned and starting rubbing his eyes as he took his head off of John’s warm and comfy chest. John opened his eyes and yawned.

‘What the hell, Harrison. Can’t someone get any peace here?’ The older man asked. George’s cheeks flushed slightly pink and nudged Ringo with his elbow.

‘You say something.’ He whispered softly.

‘We’re nearly there.’ Ringo explained with a big smile on his face, ‘You can see it if you look out of the window.’

‘I was seeing it just fine with my eyes closed, you know.’ John muttered, but Paul jumped up and moved to the window, pressing himself against it and looking through it to the closer coming capital with a big smile on his face.

‘Wow…’ He gasped. George looked back from Paul to John and grinned as he saw John watching the bassist with a love-struck look on his face. He was so glad they were finally together.

‘John! Come on and have a look. It looks huge. Just like on telly. God…’ Paul urged John. John sighed  half-heartedly, but came to stand next to Paul and watched with equal excitement as Paul pointed things out to him as they entered the city.

              The four  lads got off the train with large, wide smiles and looked around the old train station with wide eyes. They couldn’t quite believe what they were seeing. It was so different from Liverpool. These people here spoke strange languages of which they hadn’t heard before. They wore different clothing, nice, fine suits, fashionable clothing, girls and women wore trousers as well as dresses, men wore tight pants and long black coats. Almost everyone looked stylish and fashionable. There were even still the tough teddy boys and girls with their tight clothing, leather jackets and overly done, nice hairstyles. And everyone seemed busy. Everyone talked and walked quickly. They hugged and greeted each other as they met up and girls kissed their boyfriends as they got off the train and ran into their arms. And the boys loved it.

              They looked around for a bit, seeing if they could spot Brian but they saw no one. Paul quickly spotted a sign with exit and pick-ups and the four decided to follow that. They looked around and took their time, taking in their new surroundings. It surely was very different from Liverpool. They stayed closely together as soon as they realised how big the place actually was. As soon as they got near the exit they spotted Brian Epstein waiting for them. He waved at them, and the four quickly walked over to him.

              ‘Good morning, fellas. Everything went alright, I presume?’ He asked them as he gave them all a hand. The four nodded and smiled politely.

‘Yes, sir. Very well. We still can’t quite believe this is all happening, though.’ Paul spoke for them. Their new manager gave them a smile.

‘Well, I can’t say you’re the only ones. Let’s go and get a cab. We’ll drop of your stuff at the hotel and you’ll be able to freshen up for a bit before we leave. We have a busy day ahead of us. We’ll discuss everything over lunch after we’ve gone to the hotel and went by my office. I have make sure a few things are arranged for today before we can properly get started. You’ll have about an hour to settle in, take a shower and drink a cup of tea or something. Alright?’ Brian told them. The four boys nodded in sync, which Brian thought was adorable.

‘Good. Follow me. We’ll get that cab I spoke about.’ Brian said. The four boys nodded again, picked up their bags and followed Brian Epstein out of the train station and into the large city of London. 


	12. Chapter 12

The four young men stared out of the window with wide-spread eyes and giggled and gasped with excitement as they drove through London. They were seated at the back, squeezed together tightly to fit in the cab and Brian sat in the passenger’s seat, reading through lots of papers and writing stuff down in which the boys had no interest at all. They moved about the taxi and talked excitedly about this new experience. All four of them decided this was far better than school.

            When the driver told Brian they were about to arrive at their destination the four of them all held their breaths and watched with half scared, half curious looks on their faces for what their hotel looked like. The taxi stopped in front of a large, multiple stories building with a lot of large windows with little balconies that probably weren’t supposed to be used. It was made completely out of a white-ish brick and had grey-blue roofing tiles. It looked stunning. The boys got out of the taxi and looked up at the building with big eyes, not quite believing what they were seeing.

 

‘We’re staying here?’ George asked with amazement. Brian smiled at them and nodded with a shrug.

‘It’s not even that fancy. Most buildings here are even nicer, I promise.’

‘Wow…’ Paul spoke softly, almost as a whisper. Brian chuckled at their amazement and patted Paul on his shoulder.

‘Come on, lads. Let’s go and check in, alright? We’ll go to my office after lunch, as your train had a bit of a dely.’ He told them as he slowly pushed them all inside since they were all too much awestruck and couldn’t start walking themselves.

            Paul and John gasped simultaneously as they walked into their shared hotel room. They had gotten two double rooms, with double beds, meaning they had to share. Not that either of the four boys had minded one bit. And Paul had noticed the little raise of Brian’s eyebrow at the indifference on the sleeping arrangements and how they had silently decided who would share with whom without even looking at one another apart from their bed partner. But Paul didn’t care much. That was for later.  Much later. Right now, all he wanted to do was jump on the smallish, but still fantastic, double bed and take John with him to make out. He wanted to feel himself drown into the soft sheets as he bounced on the bed and giggle as John did the same and rolled onto him and kiss him passionately and full of love. Apparently John had the same idea because Paul shrieked with surprise as John grabbed his arm and drag them with him as he jumped on the bed. John joined him and laughed as they bounced on the bed. Soon John pulled him closer and let himself fall down on top of Paul and pressed his lips against Paul’s to silence them both. Paul moaned, his eyes fluttered close and he took John’s head in his hands to keep him in place as he kissed back, letting his tongue slide in between John’s soft lips. When John pulled away, Paul whined and tried to pull John back, but John wouldn’t let him and got off the bed.

‘Where are you going?!’ Paul whined as he grasped for his boyfriend and started kicking with his feet.

‘Door, luv.’ John answered with a grin as he threw the door close. Paul blushed and stopped moving.

‘Oh…’ He answered. John laughed and shook his head.

‘Can’t have anyone coming in here to catch us, can we?’ He asked. Paul shook his head.

‘No, but can you come back now. I haven’t seen you since Wednesday.’

‘Aww… Did you miss me?’

‘Terribly. Now come to bed.’ John laughed at that, but did as Paul asked anyways. Who could say no to him, right?

              George moved about his and Ringo’s room, unpacking both his and Ringo’s bags as Ringo took a shower. They needed one after that train ride. George could hear the older man hum and sing softly to himself as he showered, which George thought was adorable. And it didn’t even sound that bad. He had to remember to tell Paul and John that. Perhaps Ringo could sing a couple of songs as well. It would be nice. Then the shower stopped and Ringo fell silent. George put his book on the nightstand and let himself fall down onto the nice bed as he waited for Ringo to return. Perhaps they could just lay down and watch some telly or something as they laid curled up together on the bed before they had to go.

              It didn’t take Ringo long before he came out of the bathroom. His hair was still slight damp but his wore his suit, apart from the jacket and tie. George probed himself up on his elbows and smiled invitingly at his older boyfriend, asking him to join him on the bed without saying a thing. Ringo chuckled, but never the less crawled onto the bed next to George and let George snuggled up against him.

‘You smell good.’ George remarked as he sniffed the older man.

‘Hotel shampoo. It’s pretty good.’

‘Really good…’ George agreed as he looked up. Ringo smiled back and leaned in to kiss him sweetly on the lips.

‘I heard you singing.’ The guitarist said as they broke away. Ringo blinked at that and George giggled as he saw the man’s cheeks get a reddish shine.

‘It was good, you know.’

‘I know where you’re going with this.’ Ringo replied.

‘You’d be good. The other’s would probably think so too.’

‘That’s not the problem.’

‘Then what is?’ George pressed on. Ringo sighed and looked away.

‘It’s… I… I’m hardly as good as John or Paul is. Or you! And… well… it’s scary, you know.’ He answered him truthfully.

‘Scary?’ George asked, not understanding what he meant.

‘Yes… All those people looking at you. Why do you think I play the drums. I’d be in the back. No one would look at me. I’d be save. And now you want me to sing?! I can’t do that, Georgie.’

‘Yes, you can!’ George told him sternly. Ringo sighed and rubbed his forehead.

‘Just forget it, alright.’ George opened his mouth to say something but just then there was a knock on the door.

‘We’re not yet done.’ The younger man said as he got off the bed and opened to door.

‘Fine…’ Ringo muttered softly as he stared at the wall stubbornly.

              ‘Paul?’ George greeted his friend with surprise, not having expected him.

‘It’s not yet half past eleven, is it?’ He asked him. Paul shook his head.

‘No. I… I just have to talk to you guys about something alright. Can we go inside?’ Paul asked. George nodded and stepped aside to let Paul in. Ringo looked at Paul as he entered from the corner of his eye, but didn’t turn his head.

‘What’s wrong with him?’ Paul asked with a raised eyebrow. George sighed.

‘Nothing… Just… it’s nothing…’ He said. Paul looked from the one to the other and back against but decided to leave it. He had other business on his mind. More important business.

              He sat down in a chair near the bed so he was facing Ringo.

‘What is it, Paul?’ George asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed, next to Ringo.

‘Well… me and John… we… we think we should tell Brian.’

‘Tell him what?’ Ringo asked, his voice sounding anxious and serious. Paul sighed and let his hand run through his hair.

‘About us. And perhaps you should, too.’ Paul told them. He held his breath as he watched the expressionless faces of his friends. They seemed to have a hard time understand his words, but Paul waited patiently for what they had to say. It was George who spoke first.

‘You… want to tell him… about… you and John being… together?’ He asked, breaking the sentence up in pieces, probably as to make them understandable for himself, rather than Paul. Paul nodded.

‘We think he knows. About us. Not you two, but we’d better be careful. Know where he stands.’ He said.

‘We might end up in prison!’ Ringo exclaimed from the bed. George nodded quickly in agreement. Paul groaned.

‘We know! It’s just… we think he saw us kissing and it’s better to tell him the truth and hope that he’ll support us and perhaps help us keep our relationship working through the coming madness of becoming the best band of the world.’ Paul shot his younger friend an warning look as he scoffed at his words, ‘Than have him figure it all out by himself and having to hide from him as well. Besides, he might be helpful and make sure it doesn’t come out.’

‘And you and John talked about this?’ Ringo asked as he moved closer to the other two. Paul nodded and bit his bottom lip.

‘Listen,’ He started, ‘We’re going to discuss this with him, and you can do the same if you want to, but don’t if you don’t want to. We’re doing this and it’s up to you to decide for yourself. Me and John just think it’s for the best.’ Paul spoke softly and looked from the one to the other with pleading eyes. George bit his lip and stared down at his hands as he thought about it.  Ringo just nodded.

‘I- I think he’s right, luv.’ He told George, who looked up at him with a shocked look on his face.

‘We’d better play it safe. And Paul might be right.’ He explained.

‘But what if he calls the cops on us.’

‘He won’t.’ Paul got between the two men, ‘John and I… we’re pretty sure he’s queer, too. With the way he looks at John.’

‘I’ve noticed that.’ George muttered as he remained deep in thought. It stayed quiet for a while before George spoke.

‘Let’s just… go for it then. If you two will tell, we’d better do the same.’ George decided.

              The four lads stood awaiting in the lobby of the hotel, dressed in their fancy, but stylish suits. Brian Epstein had gone by their doors to tell them to be downstairs in five minutes and they were still early. Luckily it didn’t take Brian long either.

‘So, boys. Let’s have something to eat. I’m starving.’ He exclaimed with a clap in his hands as a greeting. Ring and Paul gave each other and odd look, while John just smiled broadly and George answered to older man with enthusiasm.

‘Oh, yes! Please… I’m rather hungry as well.’ George told his new manager, who had to laugh at that.

‘Good to know you’ve got such a good appetite. Let’s go then, boys.’ Brian answered and the four of them nodded before following Brian out.

              The place they were having lunch wasn’t much. It was cheap and slightly dirty, but cosy and the people were nice. They helped them make a good choice, which wasn’t even the priciest one and took their time as they helped you order or give you your food, though they were served really quickly. The fivesome sat somewhere in the back of the little restaurant and talked quietly with each other about their journey, what they thought of London and the band in general. Paul was clutching at John’s thigh nervously as they ate. John had laid his hand over Paul and was drawing calming circled on his skin as he tried to calm him down. He understood why his boyfriend was feeling like this. And he felt the same. He hoped they would get out soon so they could get it over with. He hoped Brian would be supportive. He and Paul deserved something good to happen after all that drama.

              Luckily, Brian soon started to talk about business and it gave both him and Paul the opportunity to get their minds of everything. It was George who started talking about school, which surprised Paul immensely, seeing as his friend despised school. But immediately he forced himself to listen.

‘Well… obviously, in the beginning you won’t have any trouble with school. It will take some time before you’ll get more gigs, but after that… Well, I suppose you boys will be moving to London at some point…’ Brian explained and took a sip of his water. The four boys looked at each other with excitement. They surely wouldn’t mind living in London!

‘So… Perhaps, depending on how quickly you boys will gain popularity, you and Paul might want to consider getting a private teacher or something like that. Of course, you just have to tell me and I’ll arrange it. Paul, might even not need one since this is his last year, but who knows.’ Brian continued. Paul and George looked at each other and grinned.

‘I surely wouldn’t mind that.’ George replied as he held Paul’s eye. Paul nodded.

‘Me neither.’ He agreed. Brian smiled at that.

‘Good. We can discuss this when it is needed, but I think it’s best to make an agreement, if only to please your parents.’ He told them. Paul nodded.

‘I think my dad would really appreciate that. He had a bit of trouble with agreeing to me taking a day off from school to go here. He values education really high.’ He told him. John chuckled at that.

‘Yeah, I’ve noticed that.’ He told him. Paul kicked his leg under the table, making John moan in pain as Paul himself ate the last of his sandwich.

‘And he should. And I agree with him. If this doesn’t work out for whatever reason, you boys need some kind of back-up.’ Brian told Paul, ignoring John completely.

‘You don’t think we’ll become famous?’ John asked a little bitchy, not liking how the older man ignored him. Though, he liked how soon the man got on and did not bother with his shit. Most people take a hell lot longer. John had to give him that.

‘I do. But perhaps not everyone can see your talent or perhaps you boys will be going well for a few weeks and then vanish again. The business is hard like that.’ Brian explained to him. John nodded with a hum of understanding.

‘So, a private teacher, eh?’ George asked with an excited smile on his face, ‘And what if we don’t like him?’

‘You may help choosing a proper teacher if you so please. That’s fine by me. But you’ll stick with the one you choose except if there seem to be problems.’ Brian said and both George and Paul agreed with big smiles on their faces.

‘Now. Let’s go. We have an appointment with a solicitor who’ll help with the legal business in about an hour. And I don’t want to be late.’ Brian told them as he arose from his chair and went to pay for lunch as the boys stuffed the last of their food and drinks in their mouths.

              The legal business about which Brian had spoken didn’t take at all that long, unlike what they boys had thought. The solicitor had made up a contract in which the scope of representation, terms of authority, rights and compensation stood for both parties and some other things. Paul had made sure he had read every little detail at least twice before giving it to the other three who just skimmed it over, since neither knew exactly what it meant. Paul, however, had understood everything, and asked both Brian as the solicitor a couple of questions on the contents as the other three listened and tried to make sense out of everything.

              John watched as Paul asked his questions and seemed very serious about what was going on, but stayed calm and polite even if there was something with what he didn’t agree with. John could almost see Paul standing in court in his little lawyer outfit as he defended his client and asked everyone just the right questions that made the opposite party break. He felt his blood heat up in his veins and move downwards to his cock. God, he had never thought something like this would turn him on, but it did. Paul seemed so clever and smart, with that cutting mouth of his and Christ, the way he held his body as he discussed everything with the other two was a terrible turn on for him. For a few seconds John was so taken in by his boyfriend that he didn’t even realise the discussing had stopped and people were staring at him, looking rather concerned. When he did he blushed slightly and asked what was the matter.

‘You can sign. Unless you still have some more questions?’ Paul explained calmly, but John could hear he was rather confused by his absentmindedness. John cleared his throat and stepped forward. The solicitor handed him a pen.

‘Right,’ He said as he bended over the paper forms, ‘Where do I sign?’

‘Here, here, there and here.’ The solicitor answered as he pointed out different spots on the documents. John nodded and signed his name where the man had told him and then handed to pen to Paul, who did the same, but without even asking where. Then it was George’s turn and at last Ringo’s, who did it with care. John jumped a bit as Paul nudged his side.

‘Are you okay?’ He asked. John turned to him with a grin.

‘You were so sexy when you were doing that?’ he confessed. Paul blushed.

‘Doing what?’

‘That thing with the contract. Christ… I can’t believe your father wants to waist you as a teacher or doctor. You’re so much hotter like this. I bet you can make the jury and judge melt in their chairs. You’d be the best fucking lawyer ever and everyone would want to be your client.’ John told him. Paul chuckled at that.

‘Would you be?’ He asked him.

‘Is that a promise?’ John asked.

‘If you want it to be, yes.’ Paul replied and patted John’s arse softy as he kept his eyes on the men before them, so they wouldn’t get caught. John moaned at that.

              Nevertheless, it was late when the four of them were done. They had spent a couple of hours discussing some last things and Paul and Brian had tried to explain everything in the contract to the other three after the solicitor had left, taking the contract with him. But now they were done. Apart from one last thing. Brian stood up from his chair and was going to let the four boys out, but only John, George and Ringo stood up. Brian looked at Paul with questioning eyes.

‘I still have something to discus with you if you don’t mind. But the other four can leave. It’s better to discuss this just the two of us.’ Paul told him with a charming smile. Brian swallowed thickly and nodded before letting the other three men out. John gave Paul the thumbs up as he left to give him a little extra courage. Paul just waved.

              ‘So, what did you want to discus with me?’ Brian asked the pretty boy in front of him as he sat back down in his chair. He folded his hands together on his desk and leaned forward a bit. Paul was biting his lip, as if he was gathering up the courage to say something. Brian waited patiently.

‘I- I.. It’s personal.’ Paul told him.

‘Just take your time.’

‘Right… Mr Epstein…’ Paul started, but Brian cut him off.

‘Please, call me Brian.’

‘It’s easier like this.’ Paul told him immediately. Brian nodded and beckoning Paul to continue. Paul took a deep breath.

‘Mr Epstein, me and John, we don’t _have_ girlfriends.’ Paul told him. He knew how stupid he sounded, but this wasn’t easy. He knew he had to tell him, but it was scary. They could all end up in jail over this. Or worse… Brian, however, didn’t seem to understand.

‘Alright…’ he said. Paul sighed and rubbed his forehead.

‘No. I mean. We don’t have _girl_ friends. And neither do Richie and George. We don’t… we don’t really do _girl_ friends.’ He tried to clarify, but he knew he wasn’t making sense. He groaned a little out of frustration.

‘Paul… are you… are you saying what I think you’re saying?’ Brian asked. Paul took a deep breath and looked up into the other man’s eyes before nodding “yes”. Brian gasped.

              ‘You mean… all four of you… you’re… queer?!’ Brian asked. Paul sighed and nodded. Brian let himself fall back in his chair and rubbed his forehead. He never would have guessed. It seemed like one of his perverted dreams that had just come through. And as if Paul could read his mind he spoke: ‘Don’t get anything weird in your head, though. We’re all taken.’ Brian blinked a few times at that.

‘What do you mean taken? Who are your… your… you know?’

‘Partners? Each other funnily enough.’ Paul told him.

‘What?’

‘Yes, me and John. And George and Richie.’

‘But how…’

‘It just sort of happened, okay. Listen. I don’t care what you think of it, but all I want to know if you’ll support us.’ Paul told him, his voice a little too edgy for his liking, but it was just the nerves.

‘S-support you?’ Brian asked, still not having overcome the shock. Paul nodded.

‘You won’t tell on us, will you. We know what’s going on in this world and we don’t need some old queer telling us that, and we know we’ve got to hide and never show anyone our true feelings for one another, but we were all kind of hoping that you could… sort of… I don’t know! We just don’t want to stop.’ Paul shouted the last more than spoke, and he bit his lip in order to try and calm down.

              Brian stared at the younger man who seemed like he was about to break down. Brian could understand the boy’s feelings. He could still remember when he had found his first love, not that he actually had had a relationship with that boy, but he could understand how he felt. He felt for the young man. He remembered seeing him and John together and how perfectly they seemed to be for one another and Brian didn’t know what it was exactly, but there was something about those two that made him want to him them. Perhaps it was that fact that they had found what he had been searching for but couldn’t find. Or that he wanted to show them the world wasn’t all bad, because Paul sure seem to think so. Or maybe it was something completely different and much more selfish. Brian didn’t know what it was, but it was there and it made him reach out for the young man and laid a comforting hand on his arm. The boy looked up at him with wide eyes. Brian smiled at him.

‘You won’t have to.’ He told him. 


	13. Chapter 13

**_One and a half years later_ **

It was cold and raining hard as the city of London seemed to quiet down under the stars of the night. The moon hung full and shined over the city. The pools of rain in the streets were deep and filthy, but glistered in the silvery light. People were walking quietly, huddled together under an umbrella as they hurried home. They shrieked whenever a car drove through a puddle and made the water splash up over them.

          John looked outside the little window of the cab as they drove through the city of London. He could hear Paul snore next to him and the man’s knee was pressed firmly against his own, even though there was more than enough room in the cab. He sighed to himself and rubbed his eyes. He couldn’t fall asleep. Not yet. They would be home soon. He reached next to him and took Paul’s hand in his, entangling their fingers. He could see Paul smile to himself in his sleep from the corner of his eye as the younger man’s head rested against the window.

 

          John found it surprising how well the band was doing now they had a manager. They got gigs regularly and just a week or so ago they had recorded a few tapes so Brian could give them to record companies who might be interested in signing them. Paul had finished his school just before the craziness had started. George, however had needed a private teacher, but he didn’t seem to mind it. Not even a week had passed after Paul had finished his school in Liverpool when Brian had called to tell them he had managed to get them a place to play for nearly every evening of the week somewhere in London. It had only been for a month, but John could barely believe how much they had learned in that short period of time. Performing, he had found, was much more than playing guitar and singing. It required charisma, wit, energy and a lot of enthusiasm. The four of them had learned quickly and even Brian had told them they were getting better and better. And the gigs were much more fun as well. They got the audience going and people danced and cheered as they played, rather than just listened. It was amazing. The feedback from the audience really gave them an extra boost of power and kept them going.

          John sighed to himself. He was really tired. Paul and he had gone to Liverpool for the weekend, visiting family and friends, since they hadn’t seen them in a few months. They had spent a lot of time together at Paul’s house, since his dad knew and they didn’t have to be too careful for once. Neither John or Paul had really thought that hiding a relationship would be that difficult, as they had done so before in Liverpool, but it was. They were being watched for most of the day and even when they had some time to themselves, there were little places they could go and hang out without getting caught. In Liverpool that had been easy. They could have gone to the cemetery or Strawberry Fields or even go and see a movie, but this was London. There were people everywhere. You couldn’t even dry hump in a toilet stall, something that had been so handy when Paul waa still in school. So home was really the only place. John smiled to himself and unconsciously squeezed Paul’s hand at the thought of going home. Brian had got them a nice little flat somewhere in the outskirts of London, but near enough to the centre where all four of them could live.

          But Liverpool had been nice. They had been able to do the things again together that they hadn’t been doing as much anymore. John had taken Paul to Strawberry Fields where they had laid down on the grass under a tree for some privacy and they had smoked and made out there for quite a while, before visiting Mimi. And that had only been their second day. Or first, depending on how you saw it. The first day they had arrived at about nine in the evening, so they hadn’t done much apart from going to Paul’s and have a drink with his father and brother, who had gotten himself a nice girl, surprisingly enough, and unpack before falling asleep, curled up in Paul’s little old bed, wearing only a pair of boxers.

          John jumped slightly in his seat as he felt Paul laying his head on his shoulder so he was sleeping against him. John looked at the younger man and stared at him a bit. Paul truly looked so beautiful like this. With his long, black eyelashes that rested so nicely on his chubby, pink cheeks and his long black hair that framed his cute face and those slightly parted, plumb, red lips, and his chest raising up every so often in a steady rhythm as he breathed through his mouth and those rounded eyebrows. John had seen this sight many times, at many times a day, but never could he quite get over how beautiful Paul was and how lucky he was for being with him. He carefully pushed one lock of hair out of the man’s face and behind his ear. He wished he could kiss him. But of course he couldn’t… When he heard the driver cough, he looked up and quickly away again. Though, Brian had told it wouldn’t be too much of a trouble to be a tad bit closer, he had also told them to keep it friendly and nothing more. Obviously staring at a guy as you pushed some hair out of his face gently, wasn’t something friends did. Mimi had told him that often enough when he was first hanging out with Stuart.

          Stuart… John’s pocket felt heavy all of a sudden. He took a deep breath and reached into it. His fingers grasped the paper and he pulled it out of his pocket. Paul was asleep now, anyways. It couldn’t hurt. He knew he had to tell Paul, though. No more secrets and keeping letters from him. He’d show him when they got home. He was sleeping now, so it was better not to wake him up over something as insignificant as a letter. John stared at it. Mimi had given it to him at their first visit there. Paul had been on the loo. He hadn’t read it. And still now he hadn’t opened it. He knew from whom it came. He could recognize that handwriting anywhere. As he felt Paul stir next to him, he quickly put the letter away again.

          When the cab turned the last corner, John gently shook Paul, in order to wake him up. Paul groaned and opened his eyes quickly.

‘Where nearly home.’ John told him softly. Paul sat up and rubbed his eyes with a yawn. John watched him with a sweet smile on his face.

‘Are Ringo and George in, you think?’ The bassist asked in a tired voice.

‘They’re probably in bed already.’ John answered.

‘I hope so. God… I’m so tired.’ Paul yawned again, making John yawn as well. They both chuckles as they noticed.

          The cab came to a halt right in front of the big building, in which the boys had their appartment. It was not a pretty building, dirty and old, but it was enough and a place they could call home. And that was all that mattered. Before they had to life in a hotel, and that hadn’t been pretty either. This was much better. A place of their own. Where they could forget about what was happening to them for a bit and relax and rest, something both wanted a lot at the moment.

‘I’m glad Brian managed to get us this.’ Paul said as he got out of the cab and waited for John to get their bags out of the trunk. John nodded and hummed in agreement and he handed Paul a heavy bag and took the other two himself. It was amazing how much stuff Paul needed, even for a weekend. A true diva, as John sometimes like to call him. Just to tease him, of course.

‘I’ll go ahead. Throw me the keys.’ Paul shouted at him. John closed the trunk and got the key out of his pocket, which he threw at Paul, who was already at the front door of the building.

‘Thanks!’ He thanked him. John paid for the cab and quickly followed Paul into the building and up the many steps to their flat at the second floor.

          ‘Why are we so high up again?’ Paul asked as John came up as well. He was unlocking the door. He gently pushed it open and walked straight in.

‘It’s saver. People can’t look in through the windows. It’s all for us, you know.’

‘Yeah, sure. Just like the girls he wants for us.’ Paul remarked sarcastically. John sighed and put the bags down by the couch, before letting himself fall down onto it.

‘I know it isn’t ideal. But I’m already glad he’s actually putting some effort in it. And he’s right. Four popular young lad like us, not having girlfriends? Bloody unlikely and problematic.’ John told him as he rubbed his forehead.

‘He wants to marry us off! It’s not the bloody eighteenth century. He can’t do that!’ Paul objected firmly as he moved the bags from the living room to the bedroom.

‘He didn’t say anything about marriage, Paul. Don’t be dramatic.’

‘He will one day!’

‘Well, yes! We can’t just stay unmarried for the rest of our lives and simply have girlfriends. If anything is any more suspicious than not have a wife or a girlfriend, it’s that, Paul!’

‘I’m just sick of all this hiding and sneaking around!’ Paul exclaimed as he let himself fall down onto the couch next to John. He sighed.

‘Sorry…’ he said, ‘I’m just tired.’

‘I know.’ John told him and he took Paul’s hand in his.

‘We’ll work it out, you know. You and me. We’ve  made it this far, which is much further than I had expected with all that has happened, so we can make it even further. We’ll see what we’ll do and how when the time comes, alright. We’re still young. And we don’t really have girlfriends yet. And he said we don’t really need them yet. And they’ll know about us. It will be fine, Paul.’ John comforted him.

‘I can’t marry someone I don’t love.’ Paul stated. John smiled sweetly at the younger man and squeezed his hand.

‘You won’t have to. Perhaps you’ll find a girl nice enough to marry. We don’t know. We simply have to wait and see.’

‘I love you.’ Paul said. John sighted. He knew what Paul meant. And oh what he wouldn’t do to be able to do that. But they couldn’t. It was simple. There was no other option, however lovely the other, impossible one was.

‘I know…’ He answered, ‘And I you.’

          ‘I got a letter.’ John simple stated. They were lying in bed. John himself on his back, looking straight up to the white ceiling and Paul curled up against him, his arms and legs wrapped tightly around him. John’s arms was curled around Paul’s body, holding him closely against him and he drew circles on the man’s naked side. Paul rarely wore a t-shirt to bed anymore. Neither did John. They did still wear pyjama bottoms though. It was cold without them. John could feel Paul’s warm breath against his chest.

‘From whom?’ The younger man asked.

‘Stuart.’

          Paul blinked a few times at the blunt answer, not having expected that. After Stuart had left, he had rarely heard John mention him, and especially since everything was fine between them. It almost sounded strange. But yet, the mention of the name gave Paul a cold chill. He unconsciously tightened his grip around John’s body.

‘I haven’t read it yet.’ John added after a little while.

‘Why not?’

‘Because I haven’t opened it yet.’ Paul frowned at that.

‘When did you get it?’ He asked as he looked up at the older man, who kept his eyes focused on the ceiling.

‘Mimi gave it to me.’ John confessed, ‘When you were away for a bit.’

‘Why haven’t you read it yet.’

‘Don’t know…’ Paul knew what that meant. It meant John was scared. He never liked to admit that, but it had been easy to figure it out. Paul had never told him he knew, though. Why would he? It would only embarrass John. And if John knew him well enough, he knew Paul knew already, anyways.

‘Do you… Do you want to read it… together?’ Paul asked carefully. John nodded. Paul sighed and rolled away from John and sat up in the bed.

‘Let’s read it, then. Better get it over with.’ He said. John rolled on his side so he was facing Paul. He smiled. Paul knew it was a silent thank you.

          John read the handwritten letter out-loud as he sat next to Paul in the bed.

_Dear John,_

_I understand this must be confusing for you, hearing from me so suddenly after all this time. To be honest with you, I have tried to write this letter many times over the last few months, but I never had the guts to actually send it. And I think I never expected that someday I would. But it’s different with this one. It is much more… finite. If that makes any sense._

_First of all, I want you to know that I’m doing fine here in Germany. The people, surprisingly enough, are very polite and friendly to me. At the college I go to there are a lot of foreign students. There is even someone from Japan here. She’s very nice, but her English in limited, and so is my German and Japanese, the latter of course, isn’t very surprising to you. My German, however, is quickly improving._

_I’ve learned about three times as much in the last year than all the years at school before. Although, I must confess I have had some help with that._

_I have a girlfriend now, John. A pretty German girl. She’s lovely. Her name is Astrid Kirchherr. She’s a photographer and she even speaks English quite well. She has been helping me with my German, which is now reasonably good, if I say so myself. We have been even living together now for a month or two. It’s great. She’s wonderful, John. You would love her._

__  
  


_College is fine, too.  We have a lot of different subjects and we learn many different forms of styles and things like that, but we are also giving the opportunity to devolp our own style. The teachers are nice as well. Not at all that strict, as I thought they would be. Also, I have made quite some new friends. It’s really wonderful here and I just wanted to let you know that I’m doing fine._

__  
  


_But enough about me. I didn’t write this because I wanted to brag about my life. I wanted to write this letter much sooner, but I couldn’t. I was afraid to write it. I was afraid that if you’d answer me, I’d long for you once more and would return and mess things up again. That perhaps if you’d ask me to return, that I would. But I know that I shouldn’t and that it would only make things worse, so I want to ask you no to ask that of me. Please, John._

_I just want to know how you’re doing. I left so suddenly in the midst of things. I don’t know if you know about this, but I have talked to Paul about everything and told him the truth for as far as I could. I hope he told you and you two have made up. He seemed eager to make it up to you after what I had told him. I really hope you two did. And if not, I hope you’re happy as well. I just want you to be happy._

_I’m sorry if this letter sounds kind of daft. It’s hard writing this after all that time and I honestly don’t know what to write. I’m not even sure if you’ll answer me. I know I should have written you sooner, or called you even, like I promised. But I couldn’t, John. You have to understand that. I needed time to settle in and forget about you. To get over you. But I’m still not. That is why it took me so long to write this. But I have come to the conclusion that I never will be completely and that this is probably goodbye. I don’t expect you to answer me, or contact me in any way. I wanted to send this letter, to write you and ask you if my departure hadn’t been in vain. But please do, if you’re thinking about it. I really want you to. I miss you. As a friend. Sometimes I lay in bed and just remember all the fun times we had together. With the band, as friends, as artist and as lovers, though I know that last is over. I even miss seeing you with Paul, when we just broke up. I  can still remember what you looked like. So happy and in love. The way you looked at him then, I hope you still look at him like that. Your eyes full with love. I could see you cared about him deeply. I guess I was jealous of that as well. You never quite looked at me like that. But that’s okay. It’s all good._

_John, please answer me and tell me about what happened to you after I left. I want to know. I need to know in a sense. I need to know you’re okay. Because perhaps then I can fully move on and go on with my life here in Hamburg. With Astrid and her friends. Please tell me you’re okay and you and Paul are still together after all this. Please let me know you’re healthy and happy. I just hope you’re happy._

_God, I must sound so awkward in this. But I hope you’ll forgive me. For everything, that is. I’m sorry. I can’t say this enough. Because even after all this time, I’m sorry. I love you, John. And I’m sorry I have ever hurt you like that._

_Please, send Paul my love._

 

_Your old friend,_

_Stuart Sutcliffe_

          John awoke the following day early. The sun was just up and the little beams of light crept through the old, scruffy curtains. He slowly opened his eyes and groaned, because he was too comfortable and didn’t want to wake up just yet. He laid on his side with Paul spooned up behind him and the man’s arms swung over his chest, holding him firmly into place. He could feel Paul’s warm breath tickling the back of his neck.

          When John opened his eyes completely, the first thing he saw was Stuart’s letter on the bedside table. Paul had told him to reply, but he hadn’t yet. He knew he should. He owed Stuart an explanation and he had been his friend for many years. It was a shame they had parted the way they had. He sighed, untangled himself from Paul’s grasp, took his glasses and placed them on the tip of his nose as he rose up from the bed, took the letter and walked out of the bedroom. He could still hear Paul snore lightly behind him and he closed the door with care. He wouldn’t wake the younger man just because he woke up early. Paul deserved some rest.

          John got himself a cup of tea and sat down at the dining table and got himself a piece of paper to write his reply on. He’d better write it now and get it over with. Reading Stuart’s letter, he had realised that he shouldn’t dwell on it too much. It wouldn’t get much better. Carefully he started writing.

_Dear Stuart,_

_Thank you for your letter. I was surprised to read it and to be honest it had sort of escaped my mind that you didn’t know how things had worked out. Before I start explaining, I want to say that I love you too and I miss doing stuff with you. But I won’t ask you to return. It’s not necessary. And your girlfriends sounds good. Is she pretty? I hope for you she is. I wish I could meet her._

_After you’d left Paul and I did make up and we’re still together now. But it wasn’t all that easy as it could have been. The day you and Paul talked, I was in a pub and pretty much trying to drink my brains out. I was so devastated by what had happened. There was this guy, hitting on me and he insulted Paul, I think, it’s still not completely clear but it’s what Paul had told me, and I started fighting with the man, but of course I hardly had a chance with me being drunk and all. But Paul came with George and saved me. After that things were awkward between me and Paul but soon we made up. Paul told me that he had come out to his father about me and him, but only told me this after his father had walked in on us kissing. We had sex that night. Though we didn’t do much apart from a blowjob. It was a few weeks later that I took his virginity._

_It sounds so strange to me now. It’s more like a story being told by someone else but so vividly that it’s almost like you were there. Though, I still remember that night clearly. I was so nervous. And so was he of course, but he didn’t seem like it. But it was so good. Better than anything I had ever experienced. I’m not writing this with the intention of hurting you, you must understand. I just never thought I’d be able to do that with him._

_I want to thank you, actually. For leaving and not calling me or writing me. Things have been a bit hectic lately. Between all that was happening, we got George’s boyfriend, Richard, to join our band as our new drummer and we got a manager. A manager. We’ve been playing gigs in London and all over the country for about a year now and though it is exhausting , it is amazing as well. We can play whatever we want and in any way we want. The people love us. And it will only be a matter of time before we’ll get our record contract. Brian Epstein, our manager, is finding proper and suiting studios and record companies for us right at this moment. I hope we’ll break-through, but it seems a bit laughable at the moment. Paul says I shouldn’t think that way. That positive thinking is a good way to keep our spirits up and hopefully will get us where we want to be. I guess he’s right. Like most of the time._

_I read your letter with Paul last night. We live together now with the other half of the band in a tiny flat in London. It’s wonderful. A place we can call home in this madness and a place where we can be together without being afraid. Paul seemed quite taken by your words. And so was I. I hope this has explained everything you wanted to know. I miss you, too, Stuart. But it’s for the best like this. I don’t think we should see each other again soon. I want you to know that I did make this decision by myself and that no one has even read this letter yet. Though, when you have it, Paul will have read it. I want him to read it. It’s where it went wrong last time, isn’t it?_

_I wish you all the luck you can possibly have in your life and I hope you’ll write me again. I think that would be fine. Just writing. Exchanging thoughts and ideas. Like we used to. I love you, Stuart Sutcliffe. And I’m glad that I have known you and have had the chance to love you for who you are and in the way I did. But please, know that I’m happy and couldn’t be more with such a beautiful, clever young man by my side._

_Thank you for everything you’ve done for us. Even if it sometimes came a little late._

_With love,_

_John._

          ‘It’s lovely.’ Paul suddenly spoke from behind him. John jumped in his chair and clamped his chest, nearly suffering from a heart-attack. Paul snickered behind him.

‘Not funny. I could have died.’  John stated coldly. Paul grinned at him.

‘Of course, luv.’

‘How are you feeling?’ John asked as he pushed the letter aside. Paul just smiled and quickly picked the letter up as he answered.

‘Fine, thank you. But please, don’t change the subject. Do you want me to post it?’ Paul asked his boyfriend as he put it in an envelope and licked it close. John nodded with a sigh and dropped his pencil.

‘Please. What time is it?’ John asked as he looked out of the window. The sun was already a lot higher.

‘Eight ‘o clock.’ Paul answered. John nodded and turned to the younger man and wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him against him and holding him tightly.

‘Are you okay?’ Paul asked worriedly as he stroked John’s head affectionately.

‘Fine…’ John replied, ‘I love you, you know.’ Paul smiled and kissed the top of John’s head for that.

‘I love you, too.’

‘No. Don’t say that. I don’t want to hear it back.’ John spoke. Paul frowned at that, but didn’t speak. He was used to his boyfriend sometimes mumbling strange sentences and didn’t make much sense at first.

‘I just want to say, I love you and thank you for putting up with me for so long.’

‘John, darling. How could I ever not? I love you far too much. I love being around you and thinking about you and spending time with you. I love you. And I want to put up with you for so long and many, many years longer. I could spend an eternity with you. And I’m glad Stuart cheated on you.’ Paul added that last with a laugh to lighten up the mood. John chuckled along with him and released him.

‘Thank you. I wish I could spend an eternity with you.’ John said.

‘We could try?’ Paul offered with a big smile on his face. It made John laugh, but nevertheless it warmed something cold up inside of him. As if the last bit of doubt about them together vanished with that simple response.

‘Come on, let’s get back to bed for a bit. I’ll ask someone to post the letter for us later.’

‘No! No, I need to post it myself. Closure.’ John said. Paul merely nodded in understanding.

‘Anything you want, luv. Now let’s go back to bed.’ He said with a smile as he helped John up and led him back into their bedroom.

          John took a deep breath as he slowly brought the letter to the mailbox. He simply had to push it in and it was done. But it was a lot harder than he had thought. Almost as hard as actually writing the damn thing. He was glad Paul was there with him.  Paul noticed John was shaking a bit and helped him, by placing his hand over John’s and helping him push the last of the letter in. John closed his eyes and held his breath until he heard it drop down with the other letters. He felt a heavy burden fall of his shoulders. He wanted to hug Paul and hold him close, but he couldn’t because they were outside, so instead he took Paul’s writs and dragged him alone back to the club where they would be playing that evening. They had to finish setting everything up. Once inside, Paul drew John in for a long, lazy kiss and warm hug.

‘I’m proud of you, John.’ The younger man told him. John smiled weakly at him. And took a deep breath and calmed himself down. Now it was simply time to get on with their lives together and let the craziness of the world rush over them. Neither knew just yet what the world had in store for them. If only their love would last until the final day. But something told John that they would be okay. All he could do was hope that that something was right and work hard to keep Paul with him. Because he needed him. More than he ever needed anyone in his life before. He cupped Paul’s cheek in his hand and kissed him.

_**The End** _

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was graciously imported from tumblr by [CJD](https://chut-je-dors.tumblr.com/) who is a good friend and overall pretty amazing. Suck it, Puck


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